Four Years
by A Hidden Path
Summary: An AU story where the older 01 kids go to college. Koushiro/OC, Sorato, Jyoumi, Tai/?. A story full of romance, laughs, drama, and fun things like partying and classes. The kids still have a lot of growing up to do, and they need each other to heal old hurts and go forward. Update: Izzy finally learns what happened between Amy and Jerry.
1. Moving In

Tai Moves In

"I can't believe I have this much crap," Tai muttered as he pulled another box out of the trunk of his father's car.

"I toooold you so," his teenage sister called. Tai tsked at her, but couldn't find it in himself to get worked up. He was going to miss Kari desperately while he was at college, but of course he would never tell her that.

Tai frowned and stared up at his new dorm, shielding his eyes against the glaring sun. It was an old brick building, and, while it looked decent from the outside, he now knew that it left something to be desired from within. The communal bathrooms had tiny shower stalls with nothing but a thin curtain for privacy, and no separate area to change. The hallways and communal areas smelled of dudes and microwavable food. The dorm rooms themselves were tiny, and the walls were the same painted cinder blocks that had made up his elementary school. There were exposed pipes in the ceiling. Tai had already glanced into a girl's room and found wet bras and panties hanging from the pipes to dry. His mouth twisted into a grin without his willing it.

He set the box into the big yellow cart he had borrowed from the dorm. He thought he was a pretty minimalistic guy, but by the time he hauled his clothes, toiletries, sport equipment, laptop, video games, and school stuff out of his room back home, he realized that he had much more than he thought he did. Since the cart was full, Tai squared his shoulders and started pushing it up the ramp, loving the feeling of his muscles working.

Although his dorm was nasty and he would miss his family, Tai was excited about college. He was looking forward to meeting his new soccer teammates and playing in the school's awesome stadium. He doubted that the cafeteria food, which he was forced to endure for his freshman year, would be that great, but it had to be better than his mom's cooking. Plus, he was roommates with Matt, who had been his best friend since elementary school. His cousin Amy lived on a different floor in the same building, and that was great, too. He had felt beyond relieved when she finalized her decision to go to this school. Amy was innocent, naive, and in need of his protection. A voice in the back of his head reminded him that he had done a shitty job of that to date, but he pushed it back. His teeth clenched together, and he put more force on the cart than he had meant to, causing it to jerk towards the dorm building's door. Someone opened the door from inside at just the wrong moment, and the cart collided with it, pushing it backwards. There was a muffled exclamation of pain from the other side.

Crap! he thought, pushing the cart onto the landing so he could get around it. I think I just knocked a girl over! The voice was brisk and feminine. Tai pulled the door open and pulled back when he saw a guy sitting on his ass about a foot away from the door. He had a hand pressed to his forehead.

Tai took hold of his arm and half-hauled him to his feet. "I am so sorry, man," he said, sighing to himself. He hadn't even been here for a day, and his carelessness had already hurt someone. The boy hissed and lowered his hand, giving Tai a clear view of his face. He had black eyes and short, spiky hair, the reddest he had ever seen. There was something slightly feminine about his face, as well as his voice, but his eyes and brow were heavy. He was more than a head shorter than him. An impressive bruise was already beginning to form on his forehead.

"Quite alright," the boy said, speaking through clenched teeth. Tai felt his brow rise. That seemed like a British thing to say, but he had an American accent. Girly voice, delicate features, tiny stature, small frame, and an overly proper bearing? Poor bastard. He was willing to bet that this guy didn't do well with the ladies.

"How bad is it?" Tai asked, shifting guiltily. "I have a first aid kit somewhere in this mess…"

"No need," the boy answered. "Mine is already unpacked." It must have hurt pretty bad, because he went further inside the dorm lobby instead of continuing on his way outside. Tai shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned, wondering if there was anything he could do. He pulled his cart inside and pushed it out of the way.

"My name's Tyler," he said, extending a hand to him. "Third floor. Everyone calls me Tai. I'll find some way to make this up to you when you have some time, alright?" The redhead paled, probably wondering if future contact with him would cause more injuries, but he shook his hand anyway. Tai noticed that his skin was pale and smooth, and his fingers were long, thin, and delicate. They looked like a doll's hands inside his tan, calloused ones. Did this guy ever go outside?

"Isaac," he offered. "But I'm called Izzy. Fifth floor." Tai fought to keep his expression from shifting. Izzy was such a girly nickname. He would do better to stick with Isaac, but Tai vaguely knew better than to say so. He released his hand and nodded awkwardly.

"I'll see you around, then. I'm sorry." Izzy nodded and wandered over to the elevator, but Tai waited for the next one under the pretense of talking to Kari, who had watched the encounter from the tattered sofa in the corner of the lobby.

"Tai," she sighed as she approached him. "Really?" He crossed his arms and stared down at her.

"It was an accident," he said defensively. "And I feel awful about it, okay? I'll find something nice to do for him." Kari raised a delicate brow and pushed the elevator call button. When it arrived, they stood aside for the girl pushing a cart out and then stepped inside. Tai hit the round 3 button and waited for the doors to close.

"Listen," Kari said suddenly. "While it's just the two of us… I'm really going to miss you, Tai. Promise to call me lots?" Tai glanced over at her and felt a lump growing in his throat. He coughed to clear it away.

"Everyday, if you want," he replied. Kari turned to face her, grinning despite the tears in her eyes.

"Maybe not that much," she quipped, and Tai managed a faint laugh. He pulled his sister into a tight hug.

"Listen, be careful, alright? Don't let TK get fresh with you. Or Davis. Or anyone else. I will personally kick the boy's ass if he does." He pressed a cheek to her soft, smooth hair and breathed in her comforting scent. In many ways, his sister was the center of his universe, and he wasn't entirely sure what he would do now that they were no longer living in the same house.

Kari sighed and shifted so that her forehead was pressed against his shoulder. "I know," she said heavily, and Tai flinched. He always assumed that she didn't know about that. How did she find out? His hands tightened into fists, and Kari must have felt his sudden tension. She pulled back and stared seriously into his eyes. "I'm not judging you, Tai, so please relax. I'm not happy about what you did back then, but I can understand it, and I know you did it because you love her. And I love you."

Some of the tension slipped out of his body. "I love you too, Kari," he murmured. Then the elevator beeped, and he pulled away from her as the doors opened. He pushed his cart to his dorm room and opened the door. His eyes immediately fell on Matt and his brother and father, who were straightening up his side of the room.

"Hey, man," Matt said, glancing up from tucking his sheets around his twin bed. TK grinned at Kari, and she entwined her fingers and smiled angelically back. Tai fixed Matt's kid brother with a death glare, but he failed to react. Tai begrudgingly gave him some respect and left him alone.

"You weren't here a second ago," Tai said. His parents were loading some of the clothes he had already carried up into his closet and drawers. Kari moved to TK and started chatting with him in an undertone. The tiny room was far too small for all of these people, and everyone kept bumping into each other.

Matt nodded and tugged on the sheet. "Yeah, we went to lunch. Listen, my bass is in the corner, okay? Do me a favor and don't destroy it." Tai felt a muscle tick in his forehead.

"What do you think I'm gonna do, toss it out the window?" he asked, rolling his eyes. Kari giggled and broke off her conversation with TK long enough to turn to the two of them. Tai knew she was going to say something about how he had bashed Izzy's head in, so he hastened to cut her off, speaking far too loudly. "I see it, I see it, don't get your wig in a bunch." He glanced at Matt's blond hair, which he meticulously set into a cool, messy look every day, using lethal amounts of hair gel and time. Matt snorted and grinned.

After that, the group went about the move in process with no further hitches. It was almost time for dinner by the time everything was in the room and put away. His father suggested that they grab Amy and get something to eat, so he asked his family to go to the car while he got her.

Amy lived on the fourth floor, the only all girl's floor in the building. Tai was grateful for that, because he knew she wasn't entirely comfortable with boys. He took the stairs and knocked on her door. He blinked when a blond girl he had never met opened it. Her blue eyes passed up and down his body, and there was definitely approval and interest in her glance. Tai pulled out his easy, arrogant smile, and the slight spreading of her lips announced an increase in her approval. Although he was pleased and enjoyed flirting, Tai wasn't actively interested in this girl. Something about her expression, possibly the way she scrunched her lips together and to the side, spoke of snottiness, and he found himself getting a bit uncomfortable. He wasn't really the world's best judge, but this was not the person he would have chosen for Amy's roommate.

He introduced himself as Amy's cousin, tried to listen patiently to her reply, then edged past her. Amy was at her desk, glancing up from an open biology text. She smiled broadly when she saw him.

"Really, Amy," Tai sighed, coming over and closing the book. "No. Save it for when classes start next Monday."

Amy pouted, but her expression morphed back into a grin almost immediately. She adored him, and she was always pleased to see him, even if she had just been with him. It had always been that way with her, and he thought of her as a second sister. And his sisters were his sacred treasures.

She jumped up and took hold of his arm. "What's up, Tai?" she asked, swinging the arm playfully.

"Just wondering if you wanted to grab dinner with Kari, my parents, and me," he said. His brow rose at the incredibly eager look on her face.

"Sounds great, just give me a second," she said, and her voice seemed to float with relief. She grabbed a pair of shoes from the closet, shoved her feet in them, and grabbed her purse from a hook on the wall. "See you later, Sarah!" she called as she stepped out of the room behind him.

"Uh, you sure seem eager. Are you that hungry?" Tai asked, raising a brow. Amy sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. She stayed quiet until they were far from her room.

"It's just… Sarah. I tried so hard to talk to her all day, but she doesn't read. She doesn't like video games. Our tastes in music and movies are completely at odds, and she isn't interested in any of the arts. From what I can tell, she's mostly into adrenaline type sports. And it's probably just my imagination, but I feel like she's already decided that she doesn't like me, and that she's looking down on me." Amy gave herself a quick, supportive squeeze, then dropped her arms, took hold of his again, and smiled ruefully. "But I'm probably just being neurotic." Then she frowned and and stared accusingly at the shiny hallway floor. "Tai, she doesn't read." Something about the way she said it made the words sound almost damning, and Tai fought to keep his face straight.

"Well, you know, neither do I. We get along all right." He patted the hand gripping the inside of his elbow affectionately. Then he tried to banish his worry over her roommate problems. One of his older friends had warned him that new roommates often went through a honeymoon phase, where they got along well with other because of the novelty of the situation. Then their polite behavior broke apart violently before the middle of the semester. This was only the first day, and Amy and Sarah already seemed to be a little at odds.

"Yes, well. I don't have to live with you," Amy said teasingly. Tai snorted and ruffled her long, dark brown hair, mussing it up at the roots. She hissed and immediately broke away from him, finger-combing her hair with annoyed vigor. Tai couldn't fight the huge grin that followed. Tormenting Amy and Kari was one of his favorite activities.

Once they had made their way outside of the dorm, Amy paused, and Tai came to a stop beside her. He followed her gaze and saw that she was staring at their dorm. "What's up?" he asked, pressing his hands into his pockets.

"This is really happening," Amy whispered. "My mom and brother went home already. Your family is going to go home soon. And then we'll still be here." She grabbed some of her hair and started running her fingers through it. "I mean, I've been dreaming of this, of not living with my dad. But, now that it's happening…" She turned back to him, and she looked so lost and bewildered that she suddenly seemed much younger.

Tai took a deep breath and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he said, speaking in a much gentler tone than usual. "I know it's scary. It's okay to be scared. But it'll be alright, and I'm always here if you need me. And there's Matt, too."

Amy sighed and placed her hand over his. "Yes, I know," she said slowly. "And I'm here, too. For you." Then she laughed faintly and dropped her hand. "Not that you need it. You're always the strong one."

Tai stood in silence. He wished he knew how to tell her that he needed her just as much as she needed him, but he couldn't bring himself to say something so mushy. Instead, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, leading her to the car, where his family was waiting.

"We're going to have a good time here," he said, opening the door for her. "So don't worry." She smiled faintly and nodded, and Tai vowed to do what he could to make his words true.

**Author's Notes**

Hey all! I'm starting up my third fic, and as you might know, I tend to leave important info at the bottom of the first chapter. I'll shut up in future chapters, lol.

This one isn't so grand in scale as the others I'm working on right now, Growing Up with You and Insurgence. It's a place for me to breathe and write something that's more comical, more slice-of-life, and, of course, more romantic up front. I'm excited about it, and I hope you'll love it!

This story follows the older Digidestined during their college years. There will be no Digimon or any of that, it's just the older kids (Tai, Matt, Sora, Izzy, Mimi, Joe, and Amy) starting with their first day of college and moving through the four years. TK and Kari will definitely be mentioned and popping in from time to time, but I haven't decided if I will try to work in the others. Since I have no experience with Japanese colleges, all of the kids will be American in this story. I will be assigning them names that can be broken down into their dub names. The exceptions are Sora and Miyako, who will just be Japanese because I can't think of a better option. Here, it's easier if I just list the names. Don't worry about learning their new names, once the kids give their names, they will be called by the nicknames that English dub viewers are familiar with.

Original Name/ Name for this fic

Yagami Taichi/ Tyler, "Tai"

Ishida Yamato/ Matthew, "Matt"

Takenouchi Sora/ Sora

Izumi Koushiro/ Isaac, "Izzy"

Tachikawa Mimi/ Mimi

Kido Jou/ Joseph, "Joe"

Takaishi Takeru/ TK

Yagami Hikari/ Karina, "Kari"

Motomiya Daisuke/ Davis

Inoue Miyako/ Miyako

Hida Iori/ Cody

Ichijouji Ken/ Kenneth, "Ken"

Anami Eimi/ Amy

As you can see, I am including my OC, Amy, in this story. I hope you enjoy watching these great characters go through those four years that can cause so much change and excitement :)

As a general disclaimer for the entirety of this fic, I do not own Digimon. This is a nonprofit fan work.

Also, this fic deals with college kids, so there will be sex and drinking and cussing and all of that stuff, so it's rated T for now and will rise to M. Find your entertainment elsewhere if you're too young or not interested in mature themes.

I do want to say that this is based heavily in my own college experience, so it should feel very familiar to anyone who has been to an American college, and it should be quite illuminating for someone who is planning to go, hahaha! But as for what is true and what is made up, I'll never tell! ;)

Finally, please check my profile for information about when future chapters will be updated, and please R&R :)


	2. Catalyst

Catalyst

Freshman had to come to college a week before classes started, and Tai was bored, bored, _bored_. And it was only Wednesday! Classes didn't start until Monday. He rolled over on his twin bed and stared at the clock. It was eleven in the morning, so he really should be getting his lazy ass up and moving, but what was there to do? Soccer practice didn't start until the semester began, since most of his teammates weren't on campus yet.

"Matt?" he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "You got any plans today?" He waited for a moment, but there was no answer, so he sat up and took a look at his side of the room. _Rat bastard!_ Tai thought, staring at the empty bed. He glanced to the corner and saw that his bass was gone, too. So, Matt was probably out practicing somewhere.

Oh, well. Quite a few people from his high school had ended up in this college, since it was local, so he'd make some calls and hopefully spark up a game of soccer. Hell, he'd settle for baseball at this rate. Whatever he could do to get his body moving, to work off some of the restless energy that had built up since the weekend. Worse case scenario, he could hit the gym.

With that decided, Tai groped on the surface of his desk, which was pushed against his bed to provide a nightstand surface. When his fingers curled around his cell, he pulled it in and flipped through his contacts, making calls until he found some people willing to play.

Feeling much lighter of heart, he leaped out of bed, dressed, and made his way to their chosen meeting place. Eating and showering could wait until after he had gotten what he was really craving: physical exertion, release of his pent up energy, the rush and dominance of competitive sports.

A Few Hours Later

It was late afternoon by the time Tai had eaten, returned to his dorm, and showered. He felt calmer than he had in a few days after spending a few hours working his body, running around in the sun until that strangely pleasant burn of exertion set into his muscles. And, to top it all off, one of his buddies had told him about a party going on tonight, and he knew just who to invite.

Tai slipped out of his room and climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time with his long legs. He opened the door leading to floor five and wandered around until he saw one labeled Isaac. He knocked when he found it, then waited a moment. The door opened slowly, and he found himself staring down at Izzy.

"Hey," he said, tipping his bushy head to the side. "Uh, heh, remember me?" Izzy blinked slowly, then nodded. His expression was carefully neutral, and it irked him a little. Tai forced that feeling down when he noticed slight signs of a bruise on Izzy's forehead. He couldn't believe that was still lingering there. He must have really nailed him with the door.

"What can I do for you?" Izzy asked, not stepping out of the entrance to his room. Tai tipped his head and frowned. What was _with_ this guy? He had never met a kid who spoke so formally.

"Just wanted to talk," he said, trying to keep his smile friendly. He cocked an eyebrow at Izzy's look of mild surprise. The redhead nodded and stepped out of the way, and Tai came in.

The room was incredibly bare. There were no posters or decorations, just a black rug between the two twin beds. One bed had a dark green comforter and pillow cases, and the other was decked out in black. One desk was occupied by an enormous desktop with twin monitors, a laptop, and a neat pile of books, and the other was covered with study charts, books, and binders. The closets were closed, and there was nothing piled on top of either chests of drawers. Belatedly, Tai noticed the boy bent at the desk without the computers. He hadn't even looked up yet, despite the arrival of a stranger in his room.

"Uh, nice to meet you," Tai said to the boy's bent back. He finally turned around, looking slightly annoyed. He wore his dark blue hair fairly long, and he had black eyes and glasses. His face was long and thin. Tai noticed that he was wearing a sweater vest over a collared shirt, and he tried not to laugh. He was dressed like a geezer.

"Oh, are you friends with Izzy?" he asked. He turned back to his book. "Nice to meet you. I'm Joe."

"Tai," he replied, trying to stay patient and calm. These two were pissing him off a little. He had somehow managed to wander into the most asocial dorm room on the planet. "What are you studying, anyway? Classes haven't even started yet." He poked his head over Joe's shoulder and saw a bunch of shapes with sticks coming off of them.

"Organic chemistry," Joe grunted. "This isn't the kind of thing I can afford to get behind in." Tai whistled. He wasn't taking anything remotely similar to that.

"You should talk to my cousin," he said, shaking his head. "I caught her studying biology on move-in day." Joe made a noncommittal sound and turned the page of his book, clearly signaling that his interest was elsewhere. Tai shook his head and turned back to Izzy, but he was already sitting at his desk and doing something on the computer.

The last shreds of Tai's patience withered away. "_Really_, Izzy?" he asked, pressing his hands on the back of his desk chair. It shuddered beneath the force, and Izzy flinched. Tai breathed deeply and tried to reign himself in. Izzy slowly swiveled the chair around, looking cautious.

Tai sighed. "Look, I wanted to invite you to a party. Joe's welcome to come, too." Izzy smiled, but it was a purely polite gesture. There was no eagerness or interest on his face.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'll have to decline," he said. He started to turn himself back to the computer, but Tai's eye twitched, and it seemed to freeze him. Tai felt his teeth start to grind. Apparently Izzy was going to treat him like a dangerous predator forever.

"Izzy," he said slowly, "it's going to be fun. Girls. Alcohol. Music." A sudden thought occurred to him, and he tilted his head and spoke in a slightly suspicious tone. "Have you been to a college party yet?" Most of the freshman were living it up every night, before they had any responsibilities, and it seemed like everyone everywhere was drinking. But if anyone was missing out on that, he was sure he had just found them.

Izzy blinked and shook his head. "Well, that settles it, then!" Tai said, clapping his shoulder. "It's high time you went to your first one." It pleased Tai to have some way of making amends to Izzy. The guy probably had no clue about this stuff, so being introduced to it under his experienced eye would surely be helpful for him, right?

"I'm underage," Izzy said, raising a brow and frowning. Tai waved a hand dismissively.

"It's at a frat house, dude. No one's going to card you," he said, laughing. Izzy's expression didn't change, and he felt his face tighten. "Oh, God. You… You actually mean that you won't drink until you're twenty-one, don't you?" He grimaced and pulled back a little, as if Izzy's uptightness might be contagious.

"I feel no particular desire to impair myself," Izzy replied, tapping a finger against his knee, "regardless of my age." Tai groaned and rubbed a hand against his face.

"Get up," he demanded. "You're going. You too, Joe, come on. And for the love of God, lose the sweater vest!" If Joe heard him, he gave no indication. He glanced back at Izzy and saw that he was wearing khakis and a raglan shirt, which he could find no real fault with. But really, something about the guy just screamed 'piss off,' only…politely so. '_Please_ piss off,' maybe. No, 'Would you kindly piss off,' that was it. It was kind of weird.

Izzy stared at him, looking at him as if he were some sort of baffling animal at the zoo. Maybe a platypus or one of those sea horses that looked like seaweed. "Tai. I'm not interested." Tai backed away from the chair and started pacing around the room.

"You'd think I was asking you to get a root canal," he muttered. "Look, it's a fantastic evening. Let's just walk over there, and if you don't like it, you can leave. Otherwise, I'm going to stay here and pester you until the party ends, whiiiiich will probably happen around four in the morning."

Joe must have been half listening, because he finally spoke up. "You've got to be kidding me," he groaned. "I have studying to get done."

"It will be there tomorrow," Tai said testily. "And if you think I'm annoying now, well, you ain't seen nothin' yet." At this point, even Tai couldn't even say why he was still arguing about this. Izzy and Joe were clearly a pair of lost causes. It was probably just his legendary stubbornness running away with him.

But then Izzy sighed and got up, much to Tai's surprise. "Fine. I could stand to stretch my legs, maybe acquire something for breakfast tomorrow on the return trip. But don't expect me to stay."

Joe adjusted his glasses and slumped over in his chair. "Seriously?" he said, brushing his hair back with a hand. "Why me…" He stood slowly and, with a glare at Tai, took off his sweater vest and folded it neatly before putting it in a drawer. Tai rolled his eyes. Joe was still dressed at the higher end of business casual, but it would have to do.

"I'm glad we're doing this the easy way," Tai muttered. He opened the door to their room and held it open while they filed out, each one looking annoyed and just a bit disgusted. "It will be fun," he added, and there was a slight growling quality to his voice. "You'll see."

"I'm sure," Izzy drawled, and his politeness was cutting, even chilling. Tai felt his attention sharpen, felt some of instincts rise up and focus on the tiny redhead. So, there was some spirit there, after all. He grinned slowly, arrogantly, and closed the door with a strange sense of finality.

"March, boys," he said, and they fixed him with identical, black-eyed glares. Tai laughed, and even he was aware that his friendly desire to be helpful had morphed into challenge somehow under the force of their reluctance. Before the night was through, he knew he would force them out of their comfort zones, and he was looking forward to it.

**Author's Note**: So, not much happening this chapter, mostly just setting up for the next one... But there was some fun character interaction, or at least I thought so XD I was going to lump this all together with the next chapter, but boy would it have been long! Please look forward to the next update, as it will be quite long, and, hopefully, very interesting :) As always, I very much appreciate feedback :)


	3. Baby's First Party

Izzy was surprised to find that frat row was made up of brick buildings sitting on tidy green lawns. They had a certain grandeur to them, with their white columns and facades, but, upon closer inspection, there was a general shabbiness about them that spoke of years of harsh use. He didn't need to follow Tai to find the party at this point. He could hear the music from a block away, could see the mass of bodies writhing on the lawn. He glanced up at Joe and shared an uncomfortable look with him. To say that this was not their element would be a gross understatement. He tried to comfort himself with the knowledge that Tai would probably forget about them within an hour, and they could slip away, get on with their evening, and agree to never open the door of their room for the impulsive, pushy boy again.

Getting to the front door of the house proved to be quite the challenge. There were kids everywhere in various degrees of intoxication, and everyone seemed to know Tai and want to talk to him. This surprised Izzy. Why would someone who was so popular bother to spend so much time needling Joe and him into going to a party? Did he really feel that bad about slamming the door against his head? Izzy had assumed that Tai just didn't want to go to a party with absolutely no one he knew.

When they were finally over the threshold, Tai put one hand on his shoulder and the other on Joe's. "Listen," he said, half shouting despite their proximity so that he could be heard over the pounding bass, "the cheap beer is all over, but Adam's a friend. If you want something better, let me know, and I'll get it for you." Izzy glanced at Joe, allowing his confusion to show. Wasn't alcohol fairly expensive? How could a kid afford to get this many people drunk? Joe shrugged and nodded towards a rectangular table tucked away in a corner. It was miraculously unoccupied, and there were four empty chairs around it. Tai disappeared into the crowd almost at once, so they made their way over to it, winding through undulating bodies. The further into the room they ventured, the hotter and hotter it grew, and the stronger the smell of beer became.

They were halfway to the table when a girl sat down there, almost collapsing into one of the chairs. Izzy sighed at the breach in their refuge, but at least no one was following her. He and Joe approached and claimed their own seats. The girl looked up at them and smiled faintly, looking a bit taken aback. Izzy could relate. She had probably been hoping for some relative privacy, just as he was.

She stared at them for a moment, and she worried her lower lip with her front teeth. Then she pressed her hands together and smiled, clearly fighting for a natural expression, but her strain was still evident. "Hello," she said, cocking her head like a puppy. "I'm Amy."

"Hello," Joe replied, tipping his head towards her. "I'm Joe, and this is Izzy." Amy blinked and turned her attention to him.

"Izzy?" she echoed, smiling much more honestly this time. "That's such a cute name." Izzy edged back a little and fought down a sigh. He was aware that his nickname was a very common dog name in the states. But there were no signs of teasing in Amy's voice, so he tried to relax. Izzy drew his chair back in and took a closer look at her, although it was difficult in the dim light. The dancing bodies were blocking what little illumination was available in the frat house.

Amy had very long, dark brown hair with bangs. She wore it straight, with no ornaments or styling. It seemed very shiny, healthy, and soft, and the slight light available seemed to cling to it, reflecting off of it in luminescent white patches. Her skin was ghostly pale, and it too seemed to glow faintly in the dim lighting. Overall, her facial structure was round, with a round nose and chin. Her lower lip was full and sensuous, but her upper lip was thin, and it almost looked like a tiny triangle resting over a full curve. This naturally lent her an adorable pout and the potential for a seductive smile. But her eyes were by far her most striking facial feature. They were deeply, darkly brown, the same color as a horse's eyes. They were attractively over-sized and framed with decadently long, black lashes. There was a slight arch to her brow, which called attention to her eyes and made her casual glance seem just a little mysterious.

Izzy wasn't sure what to make of her. He knew that guys categorized girls with very specific words. He was fairly sure that 'cute' was the best one for her, but she really required a word that accounted for the faint ethereal quality she possessed. She wasn't beautiful or gorgeous or hot, but she was certainly attractive in a unique way, at least as far as he could tell. Physical appearances weren't all that interesting to him, and normally he wouldn't have looked this hard, but he was already getting bored here with nothing to work on.

She seemed to be studying them, too. Her finger traced a pattern on the card table as she stared into his face, and then Joe's. Izzy cleared his throat when he realized than an awkward amount of time had passed with no one saying anything.

Amy tilted her head again and entwined her fingers. "I double major in biology and vocal performance," she said. Izzy found himself nodding. There was something about her voice that suggested she could sing. It was clear and sweet, and it lilted about on ordinary words like a sparrow in flight.

"Bio?" Joe asked, cupping his face with his hand. "Me, too. Well, I'm premed, specifically, but it's pretty much the same thing at this point."

"Oh?" Amy raised one of those arched, curved eyebrows. "That's so cool. I wish I knew what I wanted to do with my degree. I'm just interested in biology, I'm not tough enough to be a doctor." She smiled, letting them know that it was alright to show amusement at her slight self-deprecation, but Izzy was more interested in her praise of Joe.

Izzy fought down a smile as Joe colored and looked away. He had probably never been called 'cool' or 'tough' before, but Amy had no way of knowing that, and she was already moving beyond her comment. She flicked her dark eyes to him, then tipped her head, smiling expectantly.

"Ah," Izzy said, pressing his hands against the table. "Computer science and mathematics." Amy's eyes widened, and Izzy steeled himself to hear her call him a nerd or a geek.

"Woooow," she said, leaning towards him slightly. "Respect. I wish I knew more about computers. I mean, I can use the internet and the office suite, but that's pretty much it. Pretty sad in today's day and age, really. Computers are responsible for so many things, and I can hardly even use them. And, of course, everything seems to come back down to math in the end, doesn't it?"

Izzy relaxed and pulled his chair closer to the table. "It's alright," he said. "There's no way everyone can be well versed in every topic. If you ever have any questions, though, I'd be glad to be of assistance." Joe glanced at him and raised a brow, and Izzy suddenly realized that he had done what every computer expert avoided above all else: imply that he would help with computer problems. His jaw shut with a faint snap. There was something very disarming and charming about this girl.

She smiled at him and rested her chin in her hands, cupping her face with them. "You're very nice," she said. She looked as if she wanted to continue, but she turned when Tai approached the table. He came up from behind her, but she twisted in her chair as if drawn to him by some instinct or invisible force. He was holding three red cups, squishing the third against his chest with his arm. His eyes widened when he saw Amy.

"Amy!" he cried. Then he paused to bare his teeth at someone who danced into his back, nearly causing him to slosh the drinks all over himself. Izzy felt his brow rise at Amy's expression of open delight at the sight of Tai. Once he was steady and over his burst of temper, Tai returned his attention to her. "I never would have thought I'd find you here!" Izzy watched as he sat drinks in front of him and Joe. He handed the third to Amy, then leaned in to talk to her. She took his arm without comment and nuzzled her head against it. Something was spreading through Izzy. It felt a bit like shock, but it was hard for him to say. He was fairly stoic, and strong emotions were foreign and difficult to identify. He finally realized the problem. It didn't seem possible for this sweet, gentle girl to be dating someone as aggressive and stubborn as Tai.

"Listen, I mixed this one for me. It's really strong. I'd give it to one of the boys, but I drank from it already. Don't drink it too fast, and don't drink anything else, or you'll regret it tomorrow. I'll come around later with water, and you need to drink it all, okay?"

"I don't want to drink," Amy muttered, staring down into the dark liquid. "It smells awful."

"It's rum and coke," Tai said, sounding affectionately exasperated. "Captain Morgan Private Stock. It's good. All sugar, how can you complain?"

"The mind fairly boggles," Amy replied, narrowing her eyes. Izzy's focus sharpened somewhat on Amy. This girl was smart; that wasn't the sort of phrase someone pulled out absently otherwise. He also noted that, despite her pleasantness, she did seem to have some slight barbs hidden away, and she wasn't shy about pulling them out.

"Don't worry," Tai said, and his eyes were suddenly focused, serious. "Whenever you want to leave, find Matt or me. I told him about this party before I left, he'll be here before too long. We'll make sure you get tucked in safely. Don't take any drinks from anyone but us." Izzy could see and hear Amy swallow, even from the other side of the table.

"I know," she whispered. Her shoulders drooped and her eyes lowered. Izzy could faintly see lines forming on her brow below her bangs. He glanced up at Joe and gave him a mystified look, but he was focused on Amy, looking grim. Joe, Izzy knew, was more socially adept than he was (which was not a difficult feat), and he wondered what information his friend was gleaning from this conversation that he was missing.

Tai sighed and took the last free seat. "I can't believe you two are hiding in the corner here. The point is to meet people."

"They're meeting me," Amy said, "so well done on their part, hey?" She spoke in a bright tone, but the tightness of her voice seemed to betray raw emotions.

Tai grinned and mussed her hair. "Well, you got me there. They're in our building, you know, so you should make friends." He glanced at Joe and him and grinned, but there was something territorial and predatory there, despite his insistence that they should get acquainted. Tai patted her back and stood, and the crowd swallowed him up again. Amy turned in her seat to watch him go, then sighed and turned back.

"Let me guess," she said, swishing her drink without taking a sip. "That bruise on your forehead, Izzy? Tai knocked you over or something, and now he thinks dragging you somewhere you don't want to be will make you even." Izzy stared at her, and it took him a moment to recover from the accuracy of her hypothesis.

"That's… That's precisely what happened," he said, and Joe jerked beside him.

"Wait, Tai's the guy who threw a door into you? Is that what this is about?" He sighed, grimaced, and took a deep drink from his cup, apparently requiring alcohol to get through this evening. Amy held a hand out as he picked it up, but he didn't notice. Soon he was coughing and pressing his face into his elbow.

"Tai makes them strong," Amy said faintly. "Mine might actually get up and walk away, since he poured it for himself. And, you know, Captain Morgan Private Stock is 100 proof."

"Y-you don't say," Joe wheezed. Izzy couldn't help but smile, and Joe glared when he saw it. Izzy cast about for a way to remove attention from his amusement at Joe's expense.

"Amy," he said, focusing on her. "I hope this isn't offensive, but I would not have pictured Tai dating a girl like you." Amy recoiled in her seat and started laughing. It was a small giggle at first, but soon she was laughing full out, snorting occasionally as she tried to breathe. Something about the snorting made Izzy grin. Most of the girls he had known were careful not to make any potentially unattractive sounds when they laughed, but Amy clearly didn't bother trying to hide anything.

"Zeus' beard, no!" she gasped at last. "No, no, no, no. No. Also no. He's my cousin, but we're almost like brother and sister." She shook her head and took a cautious sip from her red cup. Her nose wrinkled and her upper lip drew up at the taste. "It's awful, but I'm going to need it to stay sane here. It reeks of sweat and cheap beer, doesn't it? And it's so loud… I wonder why people like this." She drank some more and pressed her chin to her palm, staring balefully around the packed room.

"What are you doing here, then, if you don't mind my asking?" Joe asked. "You know why we're here." Izzy had been wondering the same thing. She looked every bit as reluctant to be here as they were.

"My roommate insisted," Amy said with a sigh. "I guess she takes issue with my tendency to study all the time. But that's what I'm paying for, you know? Why pay tuition and buy all those textbooks for no reason?" Izzy could sense Joe's surge of approval, probably in the way his expression went from polite to eager.

"Yes, yes, exactly. That's what I keep telling people, but do they listen? No, it's always, 'Joe, go get drunk, Joe, go kill yourself rock climbing, Joe, fail out of college and have a worthless existence!'"

Izzy hid a smile behind his cup as Amy pressed both hands to her mouth. Her shoulders started shaking, and Joe's aghast expression had her laughing too hard to hold it back. "You are so funny!" she cried. That had Izzy fighting back his mirth. She had no idea that Joe was being deathly serious.

When Amy's laughter finally died, there was a long pause. Then they all looked at each other and mutually drank. Amy hadn't been exaggerating. Although the rum itself was fairly smooth, there was a lot in there, and the high concentration of alcohol felt dry and harsh on his throat. He had never been drunk before, and had only tasted a few drinks, mostly wine. He wasn't sure if he was going to finish this drink or not, but it was worth a taste, if only to satisfy his curiosity.

Izzy noted, somewhat distantly, that he was almost enjoying himself. He wasn't sure if it was because of Joe and Amy's company, or because he felt like a host on a nature show, mentally commenting on an unusual species of fauna, traveling in an environment that he had never seen. He couldn't comprehend why these people wanted to dance all up on each other, regardless of if the person was a stranger of not, why they poured stale, bitter smelling beer down their throats, why they had no problem deafening themselves with a punching bass.

"I'm glad I met you two," Amy said, pulling him from his musings. Izzy stared as she downed a few enormous gulps from her cup. She made another face, but she was choking it down just fine. "I don't know anyone at this school well except Tai and Matt, and I don't think I've been doing that great a job of fitting in or adjusting or however you want to put it. Anyway, I can tell you're serious about being here to learn, and I've been having a really hard time finding people like that. Maybe we can hang out some time? I'm on the fourth floor."

"Sure," Joe said. "I mean, don't be offended, I study a lot, so I may not be the best company." He glanced at Izzy, and he tilted his head slightly in response. "Izzy's on his computer all the time."

Izzy frowned and drank. He didn't need Joe to make apologies for him. "I'd be happy to spend time with you," he said, but there was an annoyed edge to his voice that he didn't bother to smooth out. He pulled back a little when he noticed Joe's slight smile. Had he just been baited?

"I study a lot, too," Amy replied. "But I also play guitar. And I like to read and play Xbox. Do you guys like video games? I'm pretty good at Left 4 Dead and Halo." Izzy and Joe shared a look. They weren't gamers, and neither of them had anywhere near that many hobbies. Izzy worked on the computer and put a lot of energy into learning math and science. Joe poured all of his time into school, he always had. It suddenly seemed a little more obvious why they didn't generally do much talking.

"I don't normally play games, but I did play Portal," Izzy said after a pause. "I was interested in the puzzle elements, but it wasn't nearly as challenging as I was led to believe." Amy pressed her hands together.

"I can play guitar and sing Still Alive," she said, smiling. "I liked that game. Wasn't Glados a great character? So funny." She went on to talk about more games, and the three of them slowly drained their cups. Izzy noted somewhat hazily that the conversation grew more and more interesting as he ingested more alcohol. Amy grew giggly, and her smile became ever present. She seemed entirely pleased with the world and everyone in it. He found himself feeling looser, freer, and he spoke more and more, shifting by degrees from nearly silent to pretty quiet. Joe just looked like he was getting sleepy. Mostly, the two boys nodded as Amy chattered cheerfully, making jokes, talking about games, about music, about animals, about literature… She bounced from topic to topic with ease and and a light, care-free attitude, like a butterfly fluttering from flower to flower in a garden. Izzy interjected here and there, but Amy was almost solely in charge of entertaining all three of them. If it bothered her at all, she didn't give any signs of it.

Eventually, a a girl crept up behind Amy with comical care, and Izzy watched with rapt interest, finding everything much more interesting under Captain Morgan's hefty influence. The newcomer finally moved close enough to press her hands dramatically on Amy's shoulders. Amy jumped in her chair, nearly dumping the remaining contents of her cup onto her chest. Then she blinked up at the girl, and wild joy passed over her face. Izzy blinked and leaned forward as Amy's beauty severely increased with the force of her happiness. It was a fascinating transformation, but it was there and gone in an instant.

"Mimi!" Amy cried, throwing herself to her feet. The two girls embraced, and Izzy grimaced when Mimi shrieked happily, as many young women sometimes did. He glanced towards Joe, intending to share a slightly annoyed look with him, but the other boy was staring at Mimi with something close to awe on his face. Frowning with his confusion, Izzy took a closer look at Mimi.

She had light brown hair that was just a bit longer than shoulder length. Like Eimi, she had large eyes, but hers were a much lighter shade of reddish-brown. Her face was… Well, it was flawless, with no signs of asymmetry, blemishes, or features that were less than perfect. The structure of her face was ovular, and her lips were full and light pink, the same color as a cherry blossom at the height of its short, tender life. She had a sweet button nose and a an elegant, perfectly proportioned forehead. And, as if her natural beauty weren't devastating enough, she was wearing makeup with skill that bordered on the professional, accenting all of her features to maximum advantage. Within moments, Izzy realized that she also increased the power of her good looks by making just the right expression at just the right time. What, did she practice her faces in the mirror? Izzy averted his eyes and frowned into his cup.

"It's been so long since I've seen you!" Mimi said as the two girls eased back from each other. Amy tried to pull away, but Mimi held on to her by the waist, and Amy glanced down at her arms with slight confusion, judging by her tiny frown. "You're even curvier than I remembered!"

Amy snorted and colored slightly. "Oh my goooosh, Mimi. You're already going there? You haven't changed at all!" This comment naturally drew Izzy's eyes to the girls' bodies. Amy was taller than Mimi, almost by a head, and had a much larger build overall. She was neither thin nor heavy, but she did have prominent curves, although Izzy couldn't see her legs from his angle. In contrast, Mimi was petite, thin, and slightly lacking in the curve department.

"I can't help it!" Mimi cried, giggling in a way that clearly revealed her high level of intoxication. "I loooove your body! I mean, it's like, so many curves and no brakes! Bring it in, girl!" With that, Mimi tugged on Amy by her waist, tipped her head back, and kissed her, pausing sexily just before their lips touched. Mimi went right for Amy's sensuous lower lip, nibbling it with remarkably straight, white, small teeth. Then she released it, using Amy's shock to her advantage, slipping her tongue in the other girl's open mouth. Her hands wandered over Amy's curves, slipping over her hips and rear, then following her waist upwards.

Izzy stared openly, knowing it was rude, but unable to pull his eyes away. Then he saw Mimi's eyes flicker towards him and Joe, and irritation began to form. This was no drunken escapade; this was Mimi using Amy to draw male attention, despite Amy's clear signs of discomfort. Dimly, Izzy wondered about Amy's passivity. The tight set of her muscles said quite clearly that she wasn't happy with this, but she allowed Mimi to go on, even kissed her back a little.

Finally, they broke apart, and Amy sighed and touched her lips, which were slightly swollen under the force of Mimi's ministrations. "You always were like that," she said, sighing as she sat. Then she tilted her head thoughtfully and smiled half-heartedly. "That probably was the best kiss I've ever gotten, though. You've got some skills, Meems."

Mimi laughed, a sound like bells pealing, and settled into the last open chair. "Of course!" she cried. "But boy, do you need to work on your technique. It was like you didn't even want to kiss me!"

"Because I didn't," Amy replied, but there was no real heat there. She spoke as if she were simply stating a fact. She shook her head and returned her attention to him and Joe, and he tried to banish any lingering signs of his being shocked or aroused. Izzy glanced at Joe and found that he was gawking, his eyes popped open and his mouth hanging slightly. He kicked him under the table, and Joe sat up a little and rearranged his expression with painfully obvious effort. Amy ignored it completely, but he noticed Mimi's small, pleased smile.

"Guys, this is Mimi," Amy explained. "We went to the same high school, but she left after sophomore year. Mimi, this is Joe and Izzy. I actually just met them." She tilted her head, glancing off to the side as if she had forgotten something and couldn't figure out what it was, then nodded to herself. "Oh, and I'm Amy."

Izzy clamped his lips together to keep from laughing, but Mimi and Joe were less restrained. "You are soooo hilarious when you're drunk," Mimi chirped. "I wouldn't have seen that coming!"

"Yeah, well…" Amy frowned and tilted her head, clearly trying to come up with a retort, but apparently nothing was coming to her mind, because she trailed off endlessly, never saying anything. Izzy grinned at her expression, with her mouth all scrunched up and her eyes narrowed and searching the air, as if she was squinting to read the perfect comeback written there. Mimi giggled and ran her fingers through Amy's long, dark hair.

"Why are you all huddled up in the corner at a party?" she asked accusingly. "We've got two good lookin' boys here. Let's dance!" She leaned in conspiratorially and nudged Amy with her elbow, speaking in a stage whisper. "I know you like the cute type. You take the redhead." Heat swept dramatically over Amy's face, darkening it with rosy color. Izzy grimaced internally at the thought of dancing, but found that he wasn't too terribly averse to the prospect of having Amy as a partner. Perhaps he could discuss her views on some biological issues. He was curious to know if she had ever worked in a lab, and, if so, what kind of documentation they used. It seemed to him that most labs were terribly deficient in record keeping, and maybe she would have some insights.

As for being labeled the cute one, well, he had certainly heard worse things said about his appearance, so he let it slide without much consideration.

"I don't think Izzy likes dancing," Amy said, looking at him with wide, imploring eyes. That stung just a little, despite the fact that she was entirely correct, until Izzy noticed her trembling. Izzy glanced at Joe, hoping for his insight, but he was already taking Mimi's hand, looking dazed.

Izzy edged around the table and took the seat beside her, moving with care to accommodate the odd clumsiness of his legs. "I suppose I don't," he agreed, and she went visibly limp with relief. "I see you don't like it, either."

"It's crowds I don't like," she said, leaning in slightly. "All these bodies, all pressed against each other, I…" She broke off with a shudder and pulled in towards the table. "I'd rather stay out of the way." Izzy wanted to ask her some questions about that, but he glanced past her and noticed Tai advancing in the background, carrying a few cans of beer and a stack of red cups. A blond boy trailed behind him, laden with more cans of beer. Izzy pulled away slightly, frowning.

"Hey," Tai called as he came within earshot, "where did Joe get to?" Izzy nodded towards his friend, and Tai's jaw dropped when he saw him dancing awkwardly with Mimi. "Damn!" Tai cried, looking impressed. "And that girl is- Holy crap, it's Mimi!"

"Be careful," Amy said, reaching out to pull some of the tipping beer cans from his arms. "She might kiss you when she recognizes you."

"Hey, sign me up," Tai laughed, setting the rest of the cans on the table. The blond boy appeared beside him, and Izzy raised an eyebrow. The newcomer was tall, slim, but just muscular enough to avoid being scrawny, like he was. His hair was perfectly messy, clearly the result of far too much effort and hair gel. He had classical features, a firm chin, and an aquiline nose. But it was his eyes that really made him stand out. They were hard and icy, a bright, steely blue, but brimming with electricity and passion. They were the kind of eyes someone could look into and never completely wander out of.

Frowning, Izzy took his first careful look at Tai, and he almost gnashed his teeth in frustration. Tai was tan, lithe, and brimming with sinew and trim muscle, the kind people gained from frequent participation in cardio promoting activities. His brown hair was a careless mess, almost bushy, really, but it somehow suited him. Like his cousin, he had brown eyes, but the shade was lighter, somewhere between Amy's and Mimi's eye colors. They were flecked with glittering hints of gold, and they seemed to smolder, even in the dim lighting. His features were masculine without being hard, firm without being overbearing. Traditional, almost painful masculinity, with the exception of his mouth, which seemed forever set in a slightly cocky, self-assured smile.

Why was he suddenly surrounded by people who could be models? Izzy couldn't really say why, but it was beyond annoying. He glanced at Amy, glad to see another person who didn't look like she had walked right off of a movie set.

"Matt!" Amy cried, pressing her hands together. "Hey, hey. Hey, Matt! Maaaatt!" Izzy's mouth twitched upwards despite himself when she continued to call the blond boy over and over, despite the fact that he was clearly looking at her.

He laughed and ruffled her hair. "Ah, gorgeous. I see you've been hitting the sauce, there." He turned to Tai and grinned. "Excellent, she's always so funny when she's tipsy. I'll walk her home when she's ready, alright? I'm a little tired, anyway."

"Deal," Tai said, grinning as he lined up empty cups on one end of the table. Izzy watched him form a triangle made of six cups, faintly wondering what he could be doing, why Matt called Amy gorgeous (it was something of a kind nickname), and why Amy suddenly looked much more relaxed. Tai popped open some beers and poured them into the cups.

"Maaaatt, Maaaaaaatt!" Amy sang, waving her hands in front of his face.

"I see you, I see you," he answered, laughing. "What's got you so worked up, gorgeous?"

"Mimi!" she cried. "Mimi's here, see, see? She kissed me. It was gross, but also nice. She tastes like cherries. She's a good kisser. But why is she kissing me, she's just teasing me, everyone teases me."

"She what?" Matt echoed. A dim, out-of-focus expression passed over his face, and Tai cursed in a surprised, aroused undertone.

"Dude, that must have been hot," Matt said to Izzy, and he fought down a sigh.

"It clearly made Amy uncomfortable," he said, crossing his arms. "So, no. Not so much." Matt and Tai blinked and shared a quick look, and then Tai placed a hand on Amy's shoulder.

"Make friends with Izzy," he said firmly. "He's a good guy." Izzy blinked and backed away slightly as Amy turned her enormous, dark eyes on him. It was an odd feeling, being pinned down by those eyes. He couldn't say why he thought so, but they seemed to look past him into some strange, unknown otherworld, to pick out information that wasn't readily available to anyone else. Then something shifted, and she was no different than anyone else in the room.

"Okay, Tai," she said, and her tone was a mixture of cheerfulness and obedience. Izzy shook his head to clear it. Captain Morgan was having just a little too much fun with him, it seemed.

Izzy watched as Tai went to the other side of the table and began to mirror his previous efforts, making a triangle out of cups and filling them with beer. "May I ask what it is you're doing?"

"What?" Tai asked, glancing up. His hand moved a little, and some of the beer fell on the table. Izzy wondered if he was tipsy, or just clumsy.

"It's beer pong, Izzy," Amy explained. Then her eyes widened hugely, and she rocked in her seat, flailing to catch Matt's attention, nearly knocking the chair over. Gasping, Izzy took hold of the back of it, keeping her upright, but she didn't even seem to notice. "Matt, Matt. This is Izzy. That's Joe over there, dancing with Mimi. They're nice. They're smart, they like computers and…and doctors. Izzy, this is Matt, he's the best, he's a rock star, even though he plays the bass. And I'm Amy."

Matt and Tai snorted at the exact same time, and Izzy couldn't help but smile, too, despite the fact that he had already heard her make the same mistake. He wondered just how strong Tai had poured her drink. She was clearly much further along in her intoxication than he was.

"'Even though I play the bass,' huh," Matt echoed, shaking his head. "You wound me." Amy smiled somewhat hesitantly, and it was fairly clear that she wasn't quite understanding what he was saying to her.

Izzy watched Tai pour the last can. Then he pulled two bottles of water out of the pockets of his cargo shorts, placing one on either side of the table. "Alright," Izzy said, frowning at the setup. "Two questions present themselves to me. First, would you happen to have another bottle of water? And, second, could someone kindly tell me what beer pong is?"

"Beer pong is for making you drunk," Amy said, nodding her head sagely. "And you talk funny. You sound kinda like Mr. Darcy. I like it!" Tai and Matt were both laughing, but Izzy kept his face fairly neutral. He was used to people commenting on his overly formal way of speaking, but it was rare for people to express approval over it.

"Could you provide more specifics?" he asked, choosing not to comment on the rest of what she had said.

"Let me," Matt said, laughing. "You won't get very far with her when she's tipsy. In beer pong, you have two players on two teams. They take turns trying to throw a ping pong ball into the other team's cups of beer. If they get the ball in the beer, the other team has to drink that cup. Then you put the empty cup back. If you throw a ball into an empty cup, than you have to drink one of your own cups of beer. The first team to empty all of their cups loses."

Izzy pressed a hand to his chin and furrowed his brow. "So, the more you play, the more difficult the game becomes. There's something almost poetic about that."

"That's what I said," Amy pointed out, and she pouted. Normally that sort of thing annoyed Izzy, but she had a point, and her pout wasn't unattractive.

"Alright," he said, glancing at the table. "So, then… What is the function of the water?" Izzy wanted to drink it. He had finished his rum and coke, and he was thirsty. He had a tendency to intake fluids all day.

"So you can wash the ball if it bounces off the table," Tai said promptly. Izzy blanched and glanced down at the carpet. It was stained and threadbare. People had probably vomited and had sex on it.

"Yes," he said, continuing to stare at the floor. Was that a blood stain he saw? "Because water is well known for its remarkable sterilizing properties."

Amy blinked at him, then started laughing so hard that her face went entirely red, and she snorted repeatedly. Eventually she stopped making sound at all, unable to produce vocalizations with so little air left in her lungs, and her whole body trembled as she pointed at him and moved her mouth. Izzy stared, and he found himself joining Tai and Matt in their responding laughter. Rarely had he seen something more ridiculous looking than drunken Amy in hysterics.

"You…are…so…funny!" Amy choked at length. "You should tell jokes in the student union." This had Tai in particular doubling over and pressing his hands to his stomach.

"Oh, God," he choked, "my stomach hurts! Amy, stop talking for a few minutes, I need to recover over here." Shaking his bushy head, he rested him palms on the table, using it to support his upper body. Finally, he drew back and grinned at Izzy.

"So, Izzy, how about it? You and Joe verses Matt and me, huh?"

"I dunno, Tai," Matt said, glancing towards Joe. "If I were dancing with Mimi, I'd want to be left alone, wouldn't you?" Izzy following Matt's eyes and saw that Joe did look pretty happy, at least by his standards.

Izzy leaned closer to Tai, intending to make it clear that he had no desire to play beer pong, but Amy raised her hand again, then downed the last of her rum and coke in one huge swig. "Pick me, pick me! I'll play with Izzy!"

Tai smiled affectionately and ruffled her hair, and she hissed and tried to wriggle away. "You hate beer, Amy, remember?" She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out.

"Bleeeeeh, beer," she muttered. "But I wanna be on Izzy's team…" Izzy noticed Tai and Matt sharing looks and glancing at him, and he wish he knew what they were thinking. Also, he had no idea why Amy had suddenly decided that he was her new buddy, but that was fine. It was likely just a drunken impulse.

Izzy cleared his throat loudly. "Actually, I happen to share Amy's opinion on the subject of beer, so I'll have to decline, as well." Tai crossed his arms and fixed him with a hard, challenging stare, and Izzy narrowed his eyes warily. This did not bode well for him.

"Izzy," Tai said, cocking an eyebrow. "So far, you've hidden in the corner at this table and had a sip of rum. You need to do more than that to get the party experience. Joe gets a pass; he's dancing with a hot girl. So either start dancing or start playing. Your choice."

"A sip?" Izzy echoed incredulously. "There was plenty in that cup, thank you, and you'll notice I'm holding it quite well." Annoyance was building up rapidly under his slight buzz, and it was driving his mind to thoughts that he normally wouldn't have considered, to emotions that he normally would have squelched down and ignored. He suddenly wanted to shove Tai's arrogant face in it, but the boy was taller and stronger than him, which didn't leave him many options.

"Quite well!" Amy parroted, crossing her arms at Tai and nodding bossily. He and Tai ignored her, but Matt grinned from his perch on the table.

"That was nothing," Tai said dismissively. "I've had more than twice what you've had already, and I could still kick your ass at beer pong!"

"Very well," Izzy muttered, and he walked to one side of the table and placed his palms on its surface. "We'll see about that. I'll play you." This was stupid, very, very stupid. Tai was bigger than him and seemed to have much more experience drinking, so his tolerance was doubtlessly higher. But, if he really had ingested as much alcohol as he said, then his hand-eye coordination might be impaired enough already to give Izzy the edge in the game.

A slow, lazy grin appeared on Tai's face, and he took the opposite end of the table. "That's what I like to hear!" he said. "Let's just get rid of three of these cups, then."

"No," Izzy said, and there was an odd chill to his voice. "Keep all six." If he was going to go down, he would do so in blazing glory, and he would drag Tai's domineering ass down with him, damn it. A tiny, rational voice in his mind quietly asked him what was so glorious about spending the night curled up like a miserable hedgehog at the foot of a toilet, waiting to barf into it, but he ignored it.

"Uh, Izzy," Matt said, turning towards him. "You might want to reconsider that. Do you really want to hork down six beers in a span of about twenty minutes?"

"Not in the least," Izzy scoffed, "but I'll do it to wipe that obnoxious grin off Tai's face. And I also have a wager to propose. If I win, Tai has to stop badgering me. Permanently."

There was a stunned silence, and Matt and Tai shared wide-eyed looks. "I like him more and more," Amy sang, and then she dissolved into hysterical giggles.

"Me, too," Tai and Matt said as one. Izzy colored slightly, sensing that he was being teased by the boys. He had wanted to sound serious, but apparently nothing he said was worth taking to heart. _That's it_, he thought, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white. _I am going to win this._

Tai pulled a ping pong ball out of his pocket and smiled. "And if I win, you have to dance until the party is over… Naked." Amy's eyes widened hugely, and, although he agreed with the sentiment, he tried to keep his expression impassive. That was far more than he had bargained for, and, in the back of his mind, a voice from his past spoke up, reminding him exactly what she thought of his body… None of it was remotely kind. He swallowed hard, trying to force down the bile that was rising to his throat at the thought of being naked in a crowd of strangers, of someone voicing a similar opinion.

He slowly became aware that Amy was staring at him with those distant, far-seeing eyes of hers. She stared at him, through him, then leaned towards her cousin and tugged on his shirt. "That's too mean!" she cried. "Izzy is shy. Don't be mean to Izzy. Just make him take his shirt off." Izzy swallowed his relieved sigh. That would be bad enough, but he could live with it.

Tai frowned down at her thoughtfully, then reached over to pat her head. "Alright, alright, fine. The lady's pleas have moved me. You're lucky she's taken a weird shine to you, man." Then Tai reached across the table and grabbed one of the bottles of water. He pressed it into Amy's hands and instructed her to drink it, and she complained in a high-pitched whine, but his command apparently won out, because she accepted the open bottle from him and sipped obediently. Izzy watched with equal parts envy and confusion. He was desperate for some water, for one. And he had no idea why Amy was so submissive. She kept dropping signs of extremely yielding behavior, mixed in with bossiness and sweetness. Most peculiar.

"It's more unfortunate that your whole family seems to be taking weird shines to me," Izzy muttered, and then he realized that he had said it out loud. Grimacing, he stared into the six beers in front of him, and his temper slipped further. They smelled horrible. Why would anyone drink this stuff? Tai split the other water bottle between the two empty cups, and Izzy knew there was no going back now.

Tai tossed the ping pong ball up and down a few times, grinning in that annoyingly confident way, then tossed it across the table. It sank into the cup at the top of Izzy's triangle, and he grimaced as droplets of beer flew out of the cup and onto the table. Matt and Tai cheered and hooted, respectively, but Amy frowned at the table, and Izzy couldn't help but wonder why she seemed to be on his side. Izzy's quick, clever fingers pulled the ball out and dropped it in the water cup, just for somewhere to put it. Then, trying not to think about it, he lifted the cup and drank, downing it in one long, continuous go, determined not to taste it any longer than he had to. Everyone looked impressed when he slammed the plastic cup back down on the table. The beer was excruciatingly bitter and had a weird, bread-like aftertaste. He shuddered and worked his mouth, as if that would clear the taste.

"That was absolutely foul," he said matter-of-factly. Amy looked up at him and clapped, and a few people joined her. Izzy suddenly realized that the game had drawn attention, and strangers were watching the proceedings, crowding up around the table._ Pro-freaking-digious_, he thought grimly. Sighing, he picked up the ball and took aim.

"Tai's gonna trash this shrimp," someone slurred, laughing. Izzy rolled his eyes at the sound of the voice. He had thought the frat boy bro accent was a comical exaggeration for the benefit of webcomics and sitcoms, but apparently there really were people who spoke that way. _We'll see about that_, Izzy thought. _I rather doubt Tai is as well versed in physics as I am_. He could roughly calculate the angle of the throw and the force he would need to get the ball where he wanted it, but the problem then was the execution. He wasn't sure how to throw it in just the way that was required, but it was still more information than Tai would have.

He threw the ball, and it flew true, sinking into a cup in the back row of Tai's triangle. And it went on like that, over and over and over, each of them forcing the other to drink every round amid drunken cheers and strings of incoherent profanity. Izzy was beginning to feel sick, for two reasons. The first was that Tai had gone first, which meant that he would win if he didn't miss a shot soon. The second was that he had downed four beers in about ten minutes, and they were sitting heavily in his stomach, sloshing around like polluted water in his gut. Finally, they were each down to one beer, and Tai was preparing his throw.

Izzy held his breath as the ball arched, looking anywhere but at Tai's shark-like smile. It was definitely headed towards his cups, but each empty one was a trap, so there was still a good chance. There was a faint sound of an impact, and Izzy realized that the ball had bounced into an empty cup, where it sat with a strong sense of heavy finality.

The din was nearly deafening. There was a loud "Ooooh!", as if this were a football game and Tai had fumbled. To his credit, Tai took his defeat with good humor, shrugging and downing his last beer.

"Well," he said to Izzy as other people nudged them aside, eager to have their own game, "I guess you're free to go home now. I can't believe that was your first game of beer pong…"

"Izzy's gonna leave?" Amy echoed. Blinking, Izzy realized that she had attached herself to Tai's arm when the crowd surged in and pushed them aside. "Can I leave, too? I really hafta pee, but I don't wanna go here." She glanced around her cousin and smiled. "You were cool, Izzy. I mean… Well, beer pong is kinda stupid, I think? But you were all, like, 'I can take you down, Tai!' and it was cool."

Tai frowned at her. "Hey, whose side are you on, here, anyway?" Amy just pressed a hand to her mouth and giggled. Tai shook his bushy head and waved at Matt, catching his friend's eye. He quickly explained that Amy wanted to leave, and Matt nodded and fell into stride with the two of them. Tai patted Amy's back and fell back into the crowd.

"You leaving with us, Izzy?" Matt asked. "That was awesome, by the way. Tai hardly ever seems to lose at anything, and it's great to see someone put him in his place."

"Uh, thanks," Izzy muttered. He didn't feel much like a winner at the moment, despite the sense of thin triumph still running through him. More than anything, he felt nauseous. "I'll be heading back now, too, so…"

"Walk with us!" Amy chirped. Izzy stared at her, unsure of how to behave in the face of such open friendliness. But, then, it did sound something like a command, as well… He fought down a grin. Apparently Tai's family had a strong streak of bossiness.

"Alright," he said, pulling his cell out. "Let me just try to contact Joe. I don't see him anywhere." But his call and text went unanswered, so, in the end, he left the party with just Amy and Matt, feeling grateful for the cool night air, the quiet, and the lilting sound of Amy's voice as she prattled in a circular, distinctively tipsy manner.

Maybe parties weren't _so_ terrible after all, but he had definitely had his fill for a long, long while.

**Author's Note: **Another chapter wooo! I have to say, I think "pro-freaking-digious" is my new favorite phrase, hahaha! The trick is to imagine it being said with a polite, detached voice...

Anyway, I wanted to say that I am writing Izzy with a somewhat harsher personality than I normally give him. My thoughts are, what would he be like if his social problems (distance and disinterest) were never really addressed at all until college? And I guess what I'm giving you is my answer. And, of course, we'll be seeing his additional baggage more and more as the story goes on (it amazes me how much baggage a person can have already when they're only in their late teens...). Basically, he hides behind a layer of politeness, but underneath it he can be very pessimistic, vitriolic, dry, and sarcastic. But he's still a nice guy to the core, more so than even he realizes, more so than he's comfortable with.

Please stick around, because the aftermath of the party is just as interesting as the party itself, at least for Amy!


	4. Worst After Party Ever

Amy had a nice time walking home with Matt and Izzy, talking about whatever floated through her head, twirling in the darkness and giggling at nothing, too tipsy to find it odd, too cheerful to think anything of it when Matt took hold of her arm, saying something about how she was going to stumble and fall if she kept this up. Soon, they were in their dorm elevator and saying goodbye to Izzy, who, she noticed, was looking a bit green about the gills, probably because he drank all that nasty beer so quickly.

"I'm sorry about the beer, Izzy!" she called as Matt half-dragged her out of the elevator. "Please play with us again, even though Tai can be… Tai." The doors were closing, so she hastened to clarify, raising her voice. "I don't mean play beer pong, I mean whatever you want! I don't even like beer pong!" But there was no answer, and the doors closed, so she sighed and tried her best to work her feet in time with Matt's. He opened the bathroom door for her, and he was still waiting outside when she was finished in there. He led her to her room, and Amy was distantly aware of quite a few girls watching her with wide, jealous eyes, but the meaning of it couldn't penetrate her mind.

Once they were at her door, she pulled her keys from her purse and tried to unlock it, but she had an embarrassing amount of trouble doing this when she was sober. Laughing softly by her ear, Matt took the keys and opened the door for her. She hopped through the portal and spun around on her fluffy area rug, smiling at Matt as he moved about the room, checking the surfaces for something.

"Here, gorgeous," Matt crooned as he helped her into bed. "Take your contacts out, I have the holder right here." Amy sighed and pressed her pointer and thumb to her right eye. She squeaked with pain as she misjudged the distance and poked herself. Matt tried and failed to suppress an amused snort. She frowned and had another go, and this time the contact came free. She dropped it in the holder and went to remove the other.

Once she managed that, Matt handed her her glasses, then shuffled through her mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. Amy frowned at it. "Tai made me drink some already," she complained.

"And now I'm making you drink some more." His tone was so pleasant and reasonable that Amy wanted to kick him, but she knew that wasn't the best idea right now. Matt handed her the bottle and turned to her dresser.

"You're not changing me," Amy said, trying and failing to twist the cap off the bottle. "And don't paw through my clothes." She tilted the bottle and gnawed on the lid. For some reason, that seemed the thing to do.

Matt turned to her and laughed. "Ah, Amy, I wish everyone acted like you when they got drunk. You're hysterical." Amy was vaguely aware that she should perhaps be offended, but it sounded like a compliment, and pleasure tickled its way through her. She squealed appreciatively and blushed.

"And you're super handsome," she sang. "And also very nice, to take care of me. I love you, Matt. You're the best." A gentle, mild smile passed over his face, and Amy was distantly aware that the expression was rare. He walked over and twisted the lid off the bottle.

"I love you, too, kid," he murmured, and he kissed the top of her head. "I'm going to get some pajamas out for you, so you can change. Drink the water. Call me if you need anything, I'm going back to my room now, alright?"

"Oh," Amy said, sighing. "I want to talk about Izzy and Joe." One of Matt's eyebrows rose, and Amy giggled, although she wasn't sure why it was so funny.

"What about them?" he asked. His tone was too layered for Amy to work out right now, so she tried to ignore it. She watched him open her drawers until he found sweats and her over-sized tee shirts. He came back over and placed a set at the foot of the bed.

"I like them," she said conversationally. "Did you?" She tilted her head, but the mannerism didn't come quite as easily as normally. She found her shoulders following the movement. Matt grabbed her, laughed, and pressed her back against her pillows.

"They seemed like nice guys. Maybe a little dull, though. What, are you interested in one of them?" he asked. Amy tried to blow a raspberry, but she just ended up throwing spittle at Matt. He grimaced and wiped his face with his sleeve, but cracked a smile in the end, if somewhat reluctantly.

"Nooooooo," she sang, smacking his shoulder. Or, at least, she tried to, but she aimed a wee bit low and got his chest instead. Something about this was hysterical, and she sat back and started laughing. Matt shook his head and smiled.

"Next time I'll make your drink," he said, rolling his eyes. "Tai overdid it."

"Will I get hung over?" Amy asked. Concern cut through the pleasant haze hanging over her.

Matt shook his head. "Nah, you're pretty damn tipsy, but you're not full-on drunk. You should be fine, especially if you drink that water. All of it, okay?"

"Tiiiiiipsyyyy." Amy heard her voice lilt over the elongated word, but she hadn't chosen to sing it like that. Matt grinned and pressed the mouth of the water bottle to her lips. She drank obediently.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, gorgeous," Matt said, patting her head. "Sleep well."

"Mmmmkay," Amy murmured. "Night Matt. Thanks for tucking me in." He nodded and slipped out of the room. Amy downed the rest of the water as quickly as she could, then threw the empty bottle at the trash. It hit the wall, missing by a mile. Amy frowned, but then she remembered that she ought to recycle it, anyway. She slipped out of bed long enough to change, pick the bottle up, and take care of hygienic needs in the community bathroom. Then she went back to her room, locked the door, and went to sleep.

It felt like she had just drifted off when someone shook her awake. Amy opened her eyes, but it was still dark, and there was still alcohol in her system. She couldn't discern who was standing over her. "Matt?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes. Her mind slowly clanked into focus, and she realized that the face was unknown to her. Tears immediately formed in her eyes, and she tried to get up, tried to escape, but fear and intoxication were fighting her. "Who are you?" she choked. "What are you doing in my room?" She grabbed the cell phone on her desk and flipped it open, ready to call Matt. She wasn't sure if Tai would even be back from the party yet.

"I'm a friend of Sarah's," the stranger said, and some of Amy's terror fled when she identified the voice as female. "Sarah's sick. She needs new clothes. Which dresser is hers?" Amy blinked and pointed, hardly able to digest the encounter. The girl shuffled around in the dresser, removed some items, and left. Amy hopped up, locked the door, and threw herself back under her blanket.

What in the world was that about? What did she mean, Sarah was sick? Amy's main concern was that her roommate was handing out her dorm key and sending people Amy didn't know into her room. Not the most considerate thing to do. Amy considered calling Matt and seeing if he could make some sense out of what had just happened, since her cloudy mind could not, but she decided to let him sleep. She rolled over and tried to get back to bed, as well. She couldn't do anything about it until she saw Sarah, anyway.

It was still dark when she jerked awake again. Horror wiped her thoughts out and froze her faculties when she realized that someone was trying to get into her bed. She gasped and pushed with all of her strength, feeling immensely grateful when her body responded as it should. The invader collapsed on top of the rug, where he or she sat, crumpled and unmoving. Amy squinted down into the faint patch of moonlight on the floor.

"Sarah?" It was definitely her roommate, but why had she tried to get into her bed? "What are you doing?" There was no response, and Amy's anxiety shifted from one form to another. "Are you okay?" There was still no answer. Amy glanced at her digital clock and saw that it was about four in the morning.

Frowning, Amy shifted closer to her, and she caught a strong whiff of cheap beer, the same thing she had smelled at the frat house. Her nose wrinkled in response. So, Sarah was drunk, but Amy had never seen drunk like this before. Sarah wasn't moving, but it wasn't like Joe nodding off earlier. She was non-responsive.

Amy worried her lower lip and scrunched up her sheets with her fists. It was possible that Sarah needed medical attention, but she knew that she would get into a world of trouble in that scenario. And Sarah was already frightfully popular in the dorm, which meant that Amy could be committing social suicide by trying to get her medical help. Worse yet, she had no way of knowing if she actually needed it. Amy simply wasn't experienced enough with alcohol and drunken behavior to be sure.

Amy was about to get up and at least tip Sarah's head to the side when the girl groaned. Then, the sound of liquid moving filled the room, followed by the awful smell of ammonia. Amy squeaked and threw herself on the far edge of the bed, wanting to be as far from Sarah as possible.

Her roommate had just peed all over her new area rug.

Amy worked her mouth, but no sounds came out. She was disgusted beyond belief, worried, anxious, afraid. Not knowing what else to do, and determined not to step in the rapidly spreading dark spot on the rug, Amy hugged her pillow and started a vigil over her roommate.

She kept watch for almost two hours before Sarah shook her head and climbed into her own bed. Amy sagged into her bed frame, weak with relief. As her worry fell away, she began to seriously consider what had just happened, and she slowly grew hysterical. She grabbed a robe, slippers, her cell phone, and her key, and she threw herself out of her room. She called the front desk to find out which RA was on duty. She was going to talk to someone about this nonsense right now.

Soon she was banging on an RA's door, and the older girl opened it, staring down at her with confusion. It happened to be her floor RA, and Amy was sure that she had already pegged her as the quiet, gentle type. That impression might soon be changing.

"Rachel," Amy began, hovering in her RA's doorway. "I need to talk to you."

"Come in, have a seat," Rachel answered, gesturing towards the futon pressed against the wall. Amy nodded and sank onto it. Her arms automatically wrapped around her torso.

It occurred to Amy that she had no idea where to start. She was pretty sure that the RA would not report her roommate, so that wasn't a concern, but the whole thing had been so surreal that she didn't know how to talk about it. She decided to go with bluntness.

"Sarah got super drunk and peed on my rug," she said. Rachel's eyes popped open, and Amy started laughing uncontrollably at how ridiculous this whole thing was. She doubled over and pressed her hand to her mouth, but somewhere along the line, her amusement fled and she remembered the fear of having a stranger in her room at night, of having someone try to climb in her bed, the indecision and the worry, the disgust, the long vigil, her lack of sleep. She began to sob.

Rachel patted her back and tried to console her with meaningless phrases from RA training, but what Amy wanted was a new roommate. She and Sarah didn't like one another, anyway, and she certainly wasn't going to keep rooming with someone who handed out her keys whenever she got drunk. She explained all of this with care to Rachel, but the RA insisted that she could not switch roommates, and she cited school rules.

"What if I find someone else who wants to switch?" Amy asked, crossing her arms. She was determined not to be dissuaded from this course. Rachel gave a vague, noncommittal answer, and Amy found herself getting upset. She finally decided to talk directly to the person in charge of managing this dorm as soon as business hours began, so she broke off the conversation and stood to leave.

Rachel called her back in before she could slip out of the room. "You need to get that rug thrown out right now. It's a health hazard."

"Okay," Amy said, somewhat crossly. "I'll tell Sarah." But when she unlocked her dorm room door, her roommate's bed was empty, and she was nowhere in sight. Amy looked from the bed to the rug and grimaced. The puddle had been mostly absorbed by the fibers of the rug, and it left a wide, circular dark spot. The room smelled horrendous, like a thousand dirty litter boxes. Amy gagged and backed into the hallway, then slammed the door and whipped out her cell phone. She flipped through her contacts and selected Tai's name.

The phone rang several times before he picked up. "Amy," he groaned, and his voice was heavy with sleep. "What the hell. It's like the butt crack of dawn." His words were slurring heavily, and Amy realized that he still had alcohol in him.

"I need your help. Can I come down?" she asked.

"Yes. Get down here." The annoyance and aggression vanished from his tone, but the slurring remained. Amy worried her lower lip, muttered her thanks, and closed the phone. Then she went to the staircase and walked down a flight. She knocked on Tai's door, and he opened it at once, wearing nothing but sweatpants, a worried frown, and the slight remnants of the stench of beer from the frat house. Amy stepped into the room and glanced beyond him to see Matt sitting up in his bed. His hair was pressed at an infinite number of odd angles, and Amy took one look at him and broke out laughing. She was so upset that her amusement quickly turned into hysterics, and she watched as the boys shared a concerned look.

Matt frowned and chucked a pillow at her, and she caught it and took a seat at his feet. "That's what I get after walking you home and tucking you in?" he said. His tone was light, but his expression was not. "What happened to you, gorgeous? You look like you saw a ghost."

"What I saw," Amy said, gasping for breath around the laughter that sounded like sobbing, "was Sarah peeing all over my damn rug. And it was such a cute rug!"

Tai stumbled on his way back to his bed. "W-what?!" he cried, catching himself at the last possible moment.

"You heard me!" Amy half-shouted. "It's a fairly straight-forward statement! And she handed out her room key, and someone I don't know was in my room while I was sleeping! And she was so drunk, she thought my bed was her bed, and she climbed into it, and for a moment I thought-"

Amy's tumbling stream of words stopped as abruptly as it had began, and all signs of amusement disappeared. She buried her face in her hands and whimpered, not caring that the boys were seeing her raw, naked fear. When she lowered her hands, she saw that Tai was kneeling in front of her, and that Matt had scooted close to her. Amy pressed Matt's pillow against her front and tried to look anywhere but at their faces, which were set in strained expressions of mixed pity and anger.

Tai's hands settled on her knees, and Matt touched her shoulder. "You need a new roommate," Matt said firmly. "You can't share personal space with someone you can't trust."

"The RA said stuff about it not being allowed so early in the semester," Amy said miserably, "but I'm going to talk to the head of the dorm."

"We'll come with you. If he still won't allow it, we can tell him why… Why this scares you so much." Tai squeezed her knees and looked away, and Amy placed her hands on his. Her vision blurred with hot, stinging tears, and her body began to shake. That day still seemed so recent, and, really, it should. It had been, what, four months?

Amy pressed her forehead against Tai's and took in a deep, steadying breath. "Thank you. I… I still can't talk about it on my own. But… I have another problem, too. The RA said I have to throw the rug out right now, but Sarah disappeared, and I can't carry it on my own, it's too big and heavy."

Tai pulled back and shared a horrified look with Matt. "Oh, God," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. "Awesome. Okay. Greeeaaat. Amy, that can wait until a decent hour, right?"

Amy grimaced. "It's just, I can't go back to my room. It smells like the stairways to the subways in New York."

"No problem," Tai said promptly. "You're tired, we're tired. Just crash here for a few hours." He got up and collapsed on his bed, then scooted to the far side. Amy raised a brow at him, handed Matt his pillow, and stood.

"We won't fit." She frowned at him and pressed her hands to her hips, desperately trying to use her irritation to banish her fear and misery.

"Squeeze in," Tai said lightly. "Just like old times." Amy raised her brow and smiled despite herself. She still remembered sharing a bed with both Tai and Kari when she visited them as a very small child. The comfort of being near Tai, who she saw as the most powerful and capable person in the world back then, and Kari, who she saw as an angel, was a powerful thing that she would carry with her forever. She held that image in her mind as she settled in beside him.

"You didn't smell like cheap beer back then," she complained as he lifted his comforter over her. Matt snorted loudly from his bed, and Tai cracked a grin that immediately morphed into an annoyed look.

"Shut up and sleep," he murmured. Amy frowned and pressed herself against him, since that was the only way for her to fit on the tiny twin bed. At first, the feeling of a half-naked male body against hers, particularly one that smelled of alcohol and sweat, caused fear and nerves to throw her into a panic. She had to force herself to stay where she was, and her body went completely rigid. Tai fell asleep long before she did, and the familiar sound of his snoring began to soothe her. Then she noticed his body smell below the frat house odors, and that eased away the rest of her fear. She began to feel safer than she had ever felt in those four months, and she began to wish that she could always feel the solid strength of Tai's athletic body beside hers, that she could always feel his affection, which she felt even now in the arm that held her against him.

She was safe here. Tai was right beside her, Matt was a few feet away, and a solid hunk of wood and a thick metal latch stood between them and the rest of the world. Security warmed her much more than the blanket thrown over her, and she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note: **I've got an optional extra for you today, my chickadees.

The problem with OCs is that the reader knows everyone else in the story right away, but the OC feels like a complete stranger. Amy's personality will be revealed very slowly over the course of the story, but if you want some more info on her now, you can read this. Please skip it if you want to learn about her at the pace I originally planned, but know that there are no real spoilers here if you're curious now. You'll just miss out on some of the feelings of mystery and confusion that we saw in Izzy when he was trying to figure Amy out last chapter. Choose wisely XD

Amy has the INFJ personality type. If you look up that Myers-Briggs type, you can get a good feel for her personality.

Although she is friendly and very good at talking to people and handling conversations, Amy has very, very few friends and can talk all day without really saying anything meaningful about herself. She wanders through the world almost like a spectator, caring very much for other people, but rarely forming real relationships with them. Generally, people tend to think well of her, but if they try to get close to her, she deflects them gently, keeping everyone but a very select few at a distance.

As she walks around, she is often daydreaming, hardly seeing the real world around her, always as much in another place and time as she is in the here and now. It's rare for something to interest her enough to pull her entirely out of her dreamworld. Her dream is to be a writer, so that she can share what she's seeing with other people and hopefully make a living out of her tendency to zone out. However, she rarely tells anyone this, and, when asked, she simply says that she expects to work in labs, which pretty much is what she expects to happen to her.

At her core, Amy is gentle and well-meaning, and she would never do something with the intention of hurting someone. She has difficulty lying, and her face is very expressive. She has a tendency to say exactly what she's thinking. Unable to stand conflict, she often tries to diffuse tense situations around her, and she would rather be walked all over than create a conflict by standing up for herself. Amy assumes the best in everyone and is very trusting, and she will make deep sacrifices for others without thinking anything of it, to the point where it's a fault. She loves far too deeply, leaving herself frightfully exposed, and that is why she tends to pull back whenever she senses that a relationship is getting too strong.

This quirk in her personality has already caused her a lot of deep damage, and it has left her with traces of neuroticism, enoclophobia, and androphobia. In some ways, her sense of what is normal behavior has been brutalized by people she has loved too deeply in the past, leaving her unsure. Because of this, she tends to act very passive and submissive around people she loves, deferring to their judgment since she no longer trusts her own. This can confuse people sometimes, because she was born very bossy, and it can be strange to see her give someone a command one moment and then act completely passive the next. She is very dependent on the people she cares about, and needs to learn how to stand on her own feet more.

She is very intelligent and takes learning very seriously, and her grades have always been more or less perfect, except that she gets Bs in math and math-heavy sciences. She has a habit of referencing literature frequently, often confusing her peers with obscure references to Greek and Roman mythology and books that are hundreds of years old. Singing is a huge part of her identity, and the second surest way to offend her is to say something mean about her singing. The easiest way to offend her is to say something mean about her three closest friends, Tai, Matt, and Kari. Amy is into geek culture, and she's mad about biology and animal sciences. She approaches everything with 100% of her effort, whether it's cleaning the kitchen, doing an assignment, or helping a friend. Amy knows how to get a job done, making her a valuable person to have around.

Strengths: Cheerful, good hearted, well meaning, kind, compassionate, gentle, sweet, intelligent, good sense of humor, tolerant, never tries to hide her personality, generous, hard working, earnest

Weaknesses: Bossy, neurotic, laughably non-athletic, distant, cripples self by giving too much of herself/ loves to a fault, sometimes looks down on people who aren't that intelligent without meaning to, relies too much on others/ is too dependent, has difficulty with logic, is painfully clumsy

Interests: Music, animals, video games, dolls, reading, Greek and Roman mythology, science, geek culture

Skills: Writing, singing (she's a mezzo soprano, but her range is broad and she can perform as an alto and a soprano), talking/being conversational, drawing, playing guitar

There is some more info on her in my profile. Readers of my other two stories, please know that Amy's personality alters slightly from story to story, because her backstory changes in different worlds. However, at her core, she is still the same.


	5. Headaches and Roommates

**Author's Note**: We're opening this chapter by stepping back in time slightly to the night of the party, where Amy and Matt say goodbye to Izzy.

The Night of the Party

Izzy waited for the elevator to reach his floor with a hand pressed firmly to his mouth. Amy had shouted something about wanting him to spend more time with her group as the elevator closed, but in his mind he was roundly cursing them at the moment. The beers were churning in his gut, not so much because of the alcohol content (or so he expected, anyway), but because they tasted horrific and there were five of them in there right now, all swallowed in about twelve minutes. As soon as the doors opened, he bolted out of them, throwing back the door to the men's room and finding it mercifully empty.

That voice of dry, sardonic humor in his head noted that they didn't taste much worse coming back up then they had going down. Thankfully, once that business was taken care of, he felt much better, and he washed his face and slipped back to his room. He went directly to his mini fridge and swallowed half a bottle of water, then forced himself to slow down. His bed seemed to almost glow in his vision, and he realized that he very much desired the oblivion of sleep. And so, he made his way through his pre-sleep rituals, then pulled back the comforter and slipped in, wearing thin cotton shorts over his boxer briefs and an undershirt. Usually it took him a while to fall asleep, because his mind kept chugging along even as he lay in the dark, but tonight he was out like a light.

The last sensation he was aware of was a vague feeling of victory over having beaten Tai at his own game, followed by a flitting image of Amy's eyes, floating out of the darkness like twin fireflies, looking beyond him, penetrating some mysterious otherworld.

_I'm drunker than I thought, _he told himself, and then his mind drifted beyond his grasp.

When he awoke, the sun was much further along its course than it normally was when he got up. Frowning, Izzy stood and picked up his cell. His mouth dropped open when he saw that it was past eleven in the morning.

He went to Joe, who was sleeping in his bed, and gently shook his shoulder. His friend opened his eyes reluctantly, and they focused on his face by degrees. "Joe, wake up," Izzy said. "It's after eleven."

Those dark eyes, so similar to his own, widened hugely. "So late!" he said, and he hastened to sit up. "I was planning to have reviewed an entire chapter of organic chemistry by now!" He hopped out of bed and opened his closet, removing his bucket full of shower supplies and his shower shoes. "I can't believe it, I go to one party and I turn into a sloven!"

"When did you get back?" Izzy asked, going to his own closet. "I slept through your coming in."

"Hmm, I'm not sure how late it was. Probably only an hour or two after you." Joe made a frustrated noise as he tugged on a shirt and the hanger clattered to the floor.

"I apologize for leaving without you," Izzy said, lifting a folded shirt from his closet organizer. "I tried to find you, but I couldn't see you anywhere."

"Yes, well. I was in another room with Mimi."

Izzy's hands fumbled, and his shirt fluttered to the floor. He could feel his eyes widening, and Joe glanced over at him and blanched.

"Not like that!" he cried. "Geez, Izzy, get your mind out of the gutter! We were just talking." Joe folded a towel over his arm and huffed.

"Well," Izzy said, bending to retrieve his shirt, "you ought to take more care with your phrasing, then." He sighed with relief as his world view rapidly shifted back to normal. It would have taken hours to reconcile himself to a reality where Joe slept with a stranger in a random bedroom at a frat house. Still, he found himself in uncharted territory. He had known Joe since kindergarten, and in all the time between then and now, he had hardly shown any interest in girls, with the exception of one or two silent, aching, unrealized attachments in high school. Should he tease him, make inquiries, or ignore it? He found himself bitterly wishing for more social awareness. Typically, he wasn't concerned with what people thought of him, didn't mind if he fumbled an encounter, but, if it was Joe, he wanted to provide the appropriate response.

After a slight interim, he went with humor and slight teasing. "Well, to use the vernacular… Did you score digits?" Joe sputtered slightly, then sighed.

"I wanted to ask, but I guess I chickened out." He began to undress, removing his shirt first, then wrapping his towel around his waist and slipping his pajama bottoms and underwear off from beneath it. Izzy looked away and did the same, sighing internally at the daily awkwardness that was sharing a tiny room. "But, you know, Mimi's friends with Amy, right?"

"I'm not sure," Izzy said, frowning. "They certainly looked happy to see each other, but I don't think Amy was too pleased with being kissed like that." Joe began to color before his eyes, and Izzy shook his head slightly without meaning to. He wasn't sure what it was about girls kissing that made men (even homophobic ones) stare, slack jawed and stiff, but he would be lying if he denied that there had been a moment where he felt the same way.

"Well, they were drunk. I'm sure they're friends. Mimi talked about her a little, she seemed to think pretty highly of her. Anyway, you liked her, right? Amy, I mean. Maybe you can ask her… You know… The two of us could do something with the two of them, through her?"

"Liked her?" Izzy echoed. His panic and distaste at the thought of another social encounter so soon after the last put him on the defensive. "What is this, grade school? If you want to spend time with Mimi, approach her on your own. I have no interest in a staged double date. On the off chance that Amy accepted, I'd only be leading her on."

They headed to the bathroom for showers, and Joe's silence probably indicated that he was unhappy with him. Izzy sighed as he slipped into a tiny, claustrophobic, hair-strewn shower stall, removed the towel, and hung it on the single hook on the outer wall. The stream of water started up cold and with low pressure, and as he waited for it to warm, pressing his body away from the icy drops, he reflected that women really were more trouble than they were worth.

Elsewhere, at the same moment

Amy stared at the tiny slip of paper in her hands and sighed. The man in charge of the dorm had repeated that roommate swaps weren't permitted this early in the semester, but he relented, looking more horrified than he probably realized, when Tai and Matt explained her situation. She fought back a few thick, syrupy tears. Hearing that story retold had been difficult. Most days, she pushed those memories back as much as possible, and she was able to function well enough. But the problem with this method of coping was that the fear, the pain, and the heartbreak would return suddenly, in violent bursts, whenever a boy she didn't trust came too close. And it just so happened that colleges were full of virile, muscle-bound young men who couldn't seem to control their mouths half the time, let alone their libidos.

Her body began to tremble, and she shook her head and began to violently pace about the room. Sarah still hadn't returned, so she, Matt, and Tai had thrown the rug out by themselves after meeting with the dorm head. The boys went directly to take showers, but she stayed in her room, scrubbing the floor with disinfectant for the better part of an hour. The windows were open, and she could hear boys in nearby rooms playing video games and cursing at one another. Now she felt compelled to wipe down every surface in the room, and so she grabbed her Lysol and got to work, attacking her desk, her drawers, the doorknob, her bed frame, and everything else she could reach. Another half hour went by before the gripping waves of neurotic energy dripped out of her body, and she took a long shower, applying the same exacting care to cleaning her body.

When she finally returned to her room, her eyes fell immediately on the scrap of paper. It contained the phone number of another girl who had requested a roommate switch, and the dorm manager had advised her to meet her and see if she would get along better with her. Nerves struck through her body, causing vibrations not unlike the feeling of playing her acoustic guitar loudly while squeezing it against her front. What were the odds that this stranger would be any better than Sarah? Amy had no idea, but there was only one way to find out. And so, feeling uncertain and shaky, she punched the numbers in and pressed her cell to her ear.

A few rings went by before a smooth, feminine voice answered. Amy cleared her throat, unsure of how to begin. "Um, hello. I know this is random, but… My name is Amy. I just spoke to the head of my dorm, and he gave me your number, because you've apparently talked to him about switching roommates? I need a new one, too, and he said that if we preferred each other to our current roommates…" She trailed off, her usual glibness lost beneath her uneasiness.

There was a slight pause, and the other girl sounded a bit apprehensive. "I see. Well… I'm actually in my room right now. Do you have a moment? We could talk. What floor are you on?"

"Oh, no!" Amy cried. "Let me come to you. My room still smells funny." Then she smacked her forehead and sighed, feeling thoroughly vexed with herself. "I'll explain that later."

"Um…alright. I'm on the fourth floor. My name is Sora."

"Sora?" Amy echoed. "As in, Japanese for sky?" She found herself perking up a little. How cool would it be to have a Japanese roommate?!

There was a shocked pause. "Well, yes. Do you speak Japanese?"

Amy laughed. "I wish! No, I mean, I guess I can speak it at about the level of a two year old, haha. I can order at a restaurant, ask for directions, that sort of thing, but I probably wouldn't be able to understand what the other person said in reply, so I don't see how useful it is. But anyway, I'm on the fourth floor too, let me come right over!" With that, she shut her phone and left the room, then wandered the hallway until she found a door labeled Sora. She knocked gently, and it opened a moment later.

They regarded each other in silence for a moment. Sora had red-brown hair (Amy couldn't help but wonder if she dyed it, since she was fairly sure most Japanese people had darker hair) that flipped flirtatiously outward around her neck. Her eyes, like Mimi's, were reddish brown, but were more almond shaped than hers. Her cheekbones were high, giving her face a diamond shape, and her lips were delicate and full. She had a gorgeous complexion, and her skin was darker than Eimi's. There was something confident and self-assured about the way she held herself, but also gentle and kind, and her bearing spoke of maturity and compassion.

"Hi," Amy said, suddenly feeling shy. Something about Sora made her feel like she should be on her best behavior. She averted her eyes, and this made her notice that the other girl's body frame was much like Mimi's, petite and slim, but firm with muscles, particularly in the legs. Amy suddenly felt huge and hulking, but something in the back of her mind knew that she wouldn't trade her curves for anything, so it only bothered her a little.

Sora smiled and stepped away from the door, allowing her inside. Amy came to a pause just beyond the threshold, fighting the urge to rub her eyes. Half of the room was tidy and decorated with an interesting mix of feminine and boyish. The bed had a comforter in a neutral shade, covered with delicate purple irises on thin, winding branches. There was an itty bonsai tree on the desk in a round, glazed blue pot. Delicate Japanese glass wind chimes hung from the pipes in the ceiling, clear, round bobbles with a single ringer hanging from each. But there were posters on the walls depicting athletes, and there was a small collection of soccer balls, tennis rackets, and other sports equipment in the corner of the open closet.

The other half of the room was an utter mess, with clothing and half-eaten cafeteria food thrown about. The bed was unmade, and there was a massive number of empty soda cans littering the desk and the floor. A huge collection of random brick-a-brack, ranging from a nodding chihuahua to a troll doll whose hair was tangled and stained with what might have been chocolate, took up the remaining surfaces. Amy made a faint strangled sound and stepped back involuntarily.

"I swear I've met you before," Sora said slowly. She sat on the edge of the iris bed and pulled out her desk chair. Amy cautiously made her way to the chair and eased herself onto it, still unable to tear her eyes away from the mess on the opposite end of the room. Then Sora's words penetrated her mind, and she faced her with effort.

"I'm afraid I don't remember you." Amy could have added that she definitely would have remembered Sora. Her ethnicity and her beauty would have made a deep impression on her mind, as they were now.

"Hmm…" Sora's eyes stared off into nothing for a few moments, but she gave up on figuring it out and focused on her face. "I suppose you've probably realized why I would like to switch," she said, making a sweeping motion towards the mess with a delicate, slim hand.

Amy nodded vigorously. "That's… That's something, alright. Actually, I think something is moving in that Chinese takeout box." She said the words lightly, but she wasn't kidding; it did seem to be shifting around a little. Sora groaned and covered her face with her palm. "It's okay," Amy said, standing up. "I'm not afraid of mice or bugs." She made her way to the box and cautiously peeked into it. "Okay! Okay, yeah, that is a _big_ cockroach. Wow. Okay. Okay. We'll just throw this away, you know, and smash it." She quickly folded the lid shut, and Sora grimaced as she passed, but didn't shriek or shrink back, to her credit. Amy went to the hallway, put the box down, stomped on it a few times, then threw the crunched container in the hall's trashcan. She immediately washed her hands, then went back to Sora's room.

"Thanks," she breathed, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. She began to hum in an undertone, as if to soothe herself, but Amy was too far away to identify the song.

Amy grinned. In high school, her few friends had always been impressed with her complete lack of fear when it came to things that most people found gross, such as spiders and snakes. "No worries. I'm a biologist; we're tough." As she returned to the chair, she was better able to hear Sora's nervous humming, and she gasped and clasped her hands with delight.

"You like The Teenage Wolves?!" she cried, half rising from the seat in her excitement. Sora blinked, blushed, and stared fervently into her lap.

"Well, I… Yes. It's kind of a guilty pleasure, you know, loving a silly boy band so much. But I do. I went to as many of the shows as I could, even though I didn't go to the same high school as them. I even have the CD with me." She laughed nervously, looking as if she expected to be teased, but that was the last thing on Amy's agenda.

"You have the CD?!" Amy echoed. "Can I see it?" Sora gave her a baffled look, then rose and pulled a crate out from under her bed. She extracted the CD and handed it over, and Amy took it and grinned. "Excuse me a moment," she said, and she pulled her cell out and texted Matt.

_You in your room? _she typed. She sent the message, and fortunately an answer popped right back up.

_Yeah. Sup?_

_Gonna drop by for a sec. _With that accomplished, she stood and made a 'come here' motion to Sora.

"Come with me," she said, twirling the CD in her hand and smiling. "Believe me, you'll want to see this." Sora gave her a confused look, and Amy knew she was behaving inscrutably, but that was kind of her thing, so it might be best for Sora to get used to it sooner than later anyway.

"Um, where are we going?" Sora asked as she followed her out of the room. Amy paused long enough to let her lock her door, then continued on her way.

"Just to the third floor. Trust me, you'll love it." This only seemed to make Sora more uncomfortable, but she squared her shoulders and followed along, and Amy felt a rush of approval. She would have asked a lot more questions and made more of a fuss herself, which wasn't very fair, given her own tendency to be mysterious.

Soon, she was opening the door to Matt and Tai's room. Tai was out, probably playing sports or at the gym, but Matt was strumming his bass on his bed. Amy placed a hand on Sora's back and nudged her into the room, and the girl gasped and colored violently when she saw Matt.

"I brought you a fan!" Amy sang, handing the CD over. "Why don't you be a gent and sign this for her?" Matt stared up at Sora, and Amy tilted her head at the expression that passed his face. A spark seemed to go off in his eyes, a faint twitch that she had never seen before. Amy wondered if she should have warned Matt and Sora before springing this on them, because they both seemed so surprised, but she had assumed that this would be more fun.

"Oh my gosh!" Sora said, pressing her palms to her face. "You're Matt! And you!" She turned back to Amy and tugged on a lock of her hair. "This is where I know you from! You sing the girl's part in Hidden Love!"

"That's me!" Amy chirped. Although they hadn't made much of an impact on the world at large, The Teenage Wolves were well known locally, and Amy had an awesome time singing with them and recording that song for the CD. The band was broken up now, with its members going to different colleges, but Matt, she knew, was looking to get involved in a new group. Hopefully this one would have less of a boy band vibe to it… Not that Amy really minded. Whatever Matt did, she would be wildly enthusiastic about it.

"Do you really want me to sign this?" Matt asked, grinning winningly up at Sora. She nodded, threading her fingers through her short hair all the while. "What's your name?" he asked, standing and shuffling through the pen holder on his desk. He plucked a marker out of it and opened the CD case, gently pulling out the thin booklet inside.

"Sora." She leaned over his shoulder and watched him write.

"Well, Sora, how did you end up getting dragged around by Amy?" Matt asked. Amy laughed and crossed her arms, but Matt's focus remained on Sora.

"We're going to be roommates," she explained, and her hand traced the curves on the inside of her neck. "I mean, we may be roommates. If she likes me."

Matt's eyes widened slightly. He caught Amy's eye and nodded, as if to silently communicate his approval of Sora. Amy fought to keep herself from rolling her eyes. As much as she appreciated Matt and Tai's concern for her, she didn't need their permission to choose a new roommate. Amy also picked up on Sora's implied acceptance of her, and she wondered if it was because she liked her or because she could freely stroll into the dorm room of a local celebrity. She opened her mouth to say something, but Matt had returned his attention to Sora, and they were chatting about the shows she had attended, about music, about what it was like to be in a band, and on and on. As the conversation continued, Amy wondered if she had made a tactical error here, and if it was okay for her to retreat now that they were engrossed in each other.

Amy began to shift her weight slightly, and the movement must have caught Sora's eye, because she broke off the conversation and turned to her. "Oh, we should talk about being roommates, shouldn't we?" she said. "I'm sorry I got so distracted."

"No, that was my fault," Amy said, waving a hand dismissively. "I brought you here."

"Maybe we could get lunch and talk?" Sora suggested. "I'm getting pretty hungry." Amy nodded, and Matt slipped his hands into his pockets.

"You ladies mind if I join?" he asked, and Amy swallowed a laugh at the charm he was infusing his voice with. He was very natural with her, and she had a tendency to forget about his way of lowering his voice and somehow adding heat to his eyes when other girls were around. His body movements, too, instantly grew more fluid, his posture more cool and self-assured. _Poser, _she thought, but with deep affection. Boys were so silly.

Sora had no objection, and she certainly didn't, so their little group hiked over to the cafeteria for a rousing chat on roommate compatibility.

Two Days Later

"Thanks, Tai, Matt, but I can manage on my own." Matt snorted as Amy picked up Sora's printer and began to carry it out of the room, absently trailing the cords behind her. He grabbed her shoulders as she passed and picked up the cords, then twisted them loosely around her arm. She smiled nervously.

"See, you're too clumsy for this sort of thing. You probably would have tripped over those wires," Tai scolded. Matt kept his face clear of expression by pure force of will. This was one of the benefits of hanging out with Tai; although he had more tact than he used to, he would still often say whatever he felt like saying, regardless of what the other person would think of it. That meant that what had to be said was still said, and the hurt feelings went to Tai. Then, assuming the person was close to both of them, Matt would slip in and smooth things over, being blessed with a much smoother tongue than his friend's.

But Amy was apparently in too good a mood over having Sora finalized as her roommate to feel hurt, because her face remained slightly annoyed but otherwise normal. "I wouldn't have tripped, but it's not nice to drag her cords around on the ground, so thanks, Matt. Anyway, this is Sora's stuff, not mine. If you want to help, you should ask her, since you'll be handling her stuff." She nodded, as if she had just settled the matter to its fullest capacity before the authorities, then continued on her way down the hall.

When she wandered through the end of this section of the hall and opened the door to a common room, Tai turned to him, and he was frowning slightly. "Do you get the feeling she's trying to push us away?" he asked, and his brown eyes seemed to darken with concern.

Matt sighed and slipped his hands into his pockets. "I figured she would only let us fuss for so long," he said. "But… I still feel like I should. I still need to." The muscles in his face tightened involuntarily, and he fought to smooth them back out.

"I know," Tai replied heavily. "I know. I know she's not completely over it, or healed, or whatever, and I'm not sure if anyone ever fully does. So why refuse our help? I don't understand." He worked his hands through his bushy hair roughly, puffing it out to an even greater size than usual.

Matt sighed and raised a hand to the back of his neck. Sometimes, Tai seemed to intuitively know what other people needed, but most of the time he was utterly clueless, especially when the person was someone he really cared for. Often, his desire to keep them protected and safe outweighed his ability to see what they needed in a given moment. Thankfully, Matt was good at reading people, especially other people of deep emotions, like Amy. "Look, she puts her pride on the shelf with us most of the time, because she loves us. But she won't do it forever. She knows when she needs us and when she can manage on her own. After all, she called us just the other night and came to us for comfort, and let us talk to the dorm manager, right? We should let her make the calls on when to accept our help." He took a deep, shaking breath, preparing to say the part that hurt. "And this is about what she needs, not about what we need. Even though…" His eyes shut tight of their own accord, and breathing grew slightly difficult.

Tai averted his eyes and bunched his shoulders, a sure sign that he was equal parts guilty and annoyed. "See, you say that. But you feel the same way I do. It's our fault. She came to us for help, and we blew her off, just because we were having too good of a time to be bothered…!" His brow lowered over his eyes, and his hands bunched into fists. Matt grabbed his arm and looked him in the eye.

"Don't think about that now. Amy and Sora will be back any moment."

"Yeah," Tai said roughly, pressing his palm to his forehead. "Yeah." He breathed deeply and dropped his hand, and the worst signs of his distress were gone. "So, this Sora. You said you had lunch with her and Amy, right? Do you think she'll be a good roommate?"

Matt had to pin down the grin that immediately went to his lips. _Oh, Sora would be a good many things,_ he thought, and then he beat down such notions as much as he could. He couldn't help his strong attraction to her. She was beautiful, but natural, and there was a strong air of kindness and maturity about her that drew him in, even as it made him nervous. He wasn't sure he was on the same level as her, and that was something he had never thought before, something that made her even more mesmerizing. But if his years of being a singer/bassist heartthrob with girls fighting for his attention had taught him anything, it was the clear difference between attraction and love. And so, he would proceed with as much casualness and caution as he could.

"Yeah. She seems like a nice person. Although I think Amy may drive her nuts, asking so many questions about Japan." He grinned easily, then straightened and focused on the hallway as Amy and Sora opened the door from the common room, which stood between this section of hallway and Amy's hallway. Amy picked up her pace, trotting towards them to reach them before Sora. "You're still here," she said, and her expression was difficult to read.

"Always," Matt said, but he smirked and pushed a stray piece of hair back, a bit of playful arrogance that he hoped would lighten his statement and make her smile. And it did, as usual.

"Hey, Sora!" she called over her shoulder. Then she paused and placed a hand on her cheek. "Wait, should I call you that? Have I been rude? I'd be happy to use an honorific, if you prefer."

Sora grimaced as she approached, and Matt found himself looking away. How many people looked good when they grimaced? This was worse than he thought…

"Please, no. Just Sora. I spent my middle school years in the states, and I live here now, so please talk to me like you would your American friends." Amy colored and squished her face between her hands, and a look of panic flitted across Sora's features. "I'm not offended! I appreciate that you're trying to accommodate our cultural differences, I really do, but I'm just giving you my preference, because you asked."

Amy's shoulders slumped forward as she exhaled with relief. "Oh, I'm glad." Then she moved towards the door to Sora's dorm room, but came to a sudden halt midway. Blushing slightly, she came back to where he and Tai were standing, and Matt shared a grin with Tai, since each of them knew that she had completely forgotten about them. "Sora, obviously you know Matt." She paused for a second to grin hugely, beaming at him with pride and excitement, and Matt felt his heart twinge. _Ah, Amy, _he thought, fighting not to shake his head. _You're so proud of us, so invested in us. And you wonder why we can never leave you alone. _

"And this," she continued, taking Tai's arm. She leaned into him automatically, and Matt looked at Tai, expecting to see affection on his face, but Tai's attention was entirely on Sora. "This is my cousin, Tai. He plays soccer, you like soccer, right? I saw your posters. He's really good! Anywho, Tai, meet my new roommate, Sora, she's been very kind to me."

Tai extended a hand to Sora, and she took it and shook. "Nice to meet you," Tai said. Sora returned the nicety, and Tai immediately offered to help her move into Amy's room.

"Hey, Matt's here too," Amy said, laughing. This soothed some of Matt's annoyance at Tai's forgetfulness, and he took the opportunity to smile at Sora, as handsomely as he could. Sora took a step back from the two of them, looking a little surprised.

"Oh! Well, that's so nice of you. It would be a big help, but I don't even know you, not really. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Nah, it's no trouble," Matt said, turning his smile into a smoldering look. "It won't take long with all four of us, and we're both worried about Amy straining herself. She has a way of trying too hard, as I'm sure you'll come to see."

"Maaaaatt!" Amy whined, sounding much like TK did when he was younger. He grinned playfully at her, and he noticed Sora's expression softening in his peripheral vision.

"That's so sweet of the two of you," she said. "Alright. You help us get our room together, and we'll take you to dinner, what do you say, Amy?"

"Oooh!" Amy cried. "I like that! These two, it's always give, give, give with them. Feel the wrath of my reciprocation!" Then she laughed and disappeared into the dorm room, where her snorting could still be faintly heard.

Sora blinked after her, and Tai scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, she can be a little weird, but trust me. Her heart is in the right place, and in a big way." Sora smiled sweetly, a smile that lit and warmed her eyes, and Matt found himself leaning in closer to her.

"I think we'll get along just fine."

**Author's Note:** And there you have it! We finally get started on classes in the next chapter, woo! It will also have our first bit of story from Joe's perspective, which is exciting to me because I love that little dorkface. Anyway, if anyone can give me advice on handling Sora's character, I would appreciate it. Out of all of the chosen kids, I find Sora, Kari, and season 02 TK to be the hardest to write for. I just never identified with them as much or got a sense of their character or whatever. I dunno how to explain it, but let me know if you have any deep feelings about it, lol! Also, how cool would it be to have Sora as your roommate? She's so considerate! Sigh.


	6. First Days and Outings

As Joe glanced around the empty classroom, he couldn't help but think that perhaps he had overdone it with arriving early. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was 7:40 in the morning. He was already seated towards the front of the room and had a spiral notebook open to its first blank page on his desk. His schedule sat next to it, folded neatly and color coded with highlighter pens. A map of campus was below that, and Joe amused himself by examining it again. His school was massive, but he wasn't worried about finding his classes; he had already found each building and each room, so he would be fine. Probably. If he didn't get run over by an irresponsible cyclist or a punk on a skateboard…

This was his natural element, and he was vibrating slightly with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had woken extra early this morning, much to Izzy's combined annoyance and amusement, picked out his favorite clothes, and checked the contents of his duffel bag approximately twelve times. And now, here he was, sitting in the very room that would be his start on his road to becoming a doctor. It was surreal, it was exciting, it was horrifying. His fingers began to drum on the surface of the desk, and he wished he hadn't arrived so early. The suspense was really getting to him.

A few minutes later, someone approached his seat, and Joe looked over in annoyance. The room was empty; why was this person encroaching on his area? He jerked when he found himself staring into an open face with enormous, doe-like eyes, and his glasses slid down his nose.

"Amy! You're in this class, too?" He watched her smile and take the seat beside him.

"Ayup," she said cheerfully. "Good to see you! I'm so glad there's someone I know here. I take it you got a five in AP bio, as well? I was so happy when I found out that it let me skip the first two introductory bio classes and their labs. Talk about time well spent."

"I did, yes," Joe said, and he could feel his eyebrows rising. He hadn't expected Amy to be so smart, and he probably should have. He remembered her vehemence when she spoke of the importance of taking education seriously.

Amy opened her backpack and pulled out a violently pink netbook. It looked far too tiny for Joe to be able to type on comfortably, but her tiny hands fastened to its keyboard perfectly, and she turned it on and opened a word document with no problem. She made a few new folders, then gave the document a title, saving it in its proper place. Then she shut the lid and returned her attention to him. "Oh, is this your schedule?" she said, pointing to it. He nodded, and she smiled. "Do you mind if I have a look?"

_God help me, _he thought as he nodded his assent, causing her smile to brighten even more. _I'm a bit of an early bird myself, but even I don't think people should be this bouncy at this hour. _

"Hahaha!" she laughed as she unfolded it. "I color coded mine, too. We're two peas, you and I." Joe managed a faint smile, unsure how to behave in the face of such open friendliness. "Hey, you're in my organic chemistry class, too! That means a five on the AP chemistry test, otherwise it's off to general chemistry with you. Oh, and we're in the same lab for orgo, yay! We should be partners! I always get people who won't take the work seriously, I'm so sick of doing everything by myself…"

Joe watched her quietly, allowing her to perform her soliloquy on her own. He wasn't sure how such a bubbly girl could be so intelligent, but her schedule seemed to prove it. You couldn't get into most of his classes without placing into them via fives on AP tests, as she had mentioned. Perhaps he would team up with her for his orgo lab, after all. He had spent many a lab class making the same complaints that she was making, and he knew how to sniff out a true sufferer from someone who just wanted to sound superior.

Amy continued to chatter, and his attention focused back on her when she mentioned Mimi. "…had lunch with her the other day, and did you know she mentioned you? She seemed a little put out that you haven't contacted her since the party." Amy broke off and tapped a finger against her chin, and Joe's eyes were drawn to her fuchsia nail polish, freshly applied by the look of it, and professionally so. Funny how he could focus in on minutiae when his heart was suddenly hammering in his chest. The thought that Mimi had brought him up in casual conversation wrecked havoc on his vital signs, much to his dismay. "Do you like my nails? Mimi did that. She's always trying to pretty me up," Amy continued, sighing. "For a moment I thought I wasn't going to be given an option on the color."

Joe blanched. Why were they talking about fingernails all of a sudden? He waved his hands frantically. "Yes, yes, very nice. But what was that about Mimi wanting me to call her? I don't have her phone number!" Amy blinked at him, then laughed, a loud, snorting affair.

"Ah, Mimi," she said, and her voice was heavy with exasperated affection. "You drunk little filly. I'm pretty sure she thinks she gave it to you, but let me text her and ask if she wants you to have it. I can't do that to a girl without being sure, you understand."

"T-thanks," Joe said, hardly daring to believe his luck. But then he thought about it some more, and it was like a curse. His nerves would be an absolute wreck until he heard back about the phone number situation, and he needed to be on his A game for the first day of classes. He began to drum his pen against the desk.

Then the professor walked in, and class started. Joe fell into his zone of school-related focus much easier than he thought he would, given recent events, and he was able to listen well while the professor explained the syllabus. In unison, it seemed, he and Amy pulled out planners and marked the dates of their midterms and major assignments. Then the material began, and Joe wrote notes frantically. Amy was typing, and Joe noticed that she didn't miss a single word the man said. He couldn't help but be impressed, and he wondered if she would be willing to email him her notes so he could check them against his.

And, with that thought, he realized that he had found a new study buddy. In the past, Izzy had been the only fellow student he trusted to impact his academic pursuits, but he and Amy were on the same page, he could feel it. But that wasn't important right now; the teacher was still talking, so he focused back in, writing carefully for the remainder of class. Then, he and Amy filed out with the other kids, ready to make their way to their orgo class.

Joe opened the door and made sure that Amy's palm was holding it before he released it. He stepped out of the building, then turned around at the sound of an impact. Amy had tumbled to the ground, and she was opening and closing her eyes in a bemused sort of way. Then her hands closed around her left ankle, and moisture began to form in her eyes. Frowning, Joe glanced at the door and realized that there was about a three inch gap between the floor level in the building and the cement outside, and that she must have failed to accommodate for it when she went through the door. The other students were pushing past her, hardly bothering to completely alter their course, some of them stepping on the billowing folds of her nice dress. Glowering at the offenders, Joe put his hands under Amy's arms, hoping to help her get up and out of the way. But the moment his hands closed around her with any strength, her entire body tensed violently.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, and she began to flail, knocking her injured ankle against the concrete, so worked up that she didn't react to the pain. She thrashed desperately, like an animal caught in a trap, and Joe moved his head out of the way just in time to avoid being elbowed in the face.

"Calm down, Amy! I'm just helping you get out of the way, you're being stepped on!" The severe tension in Amy's body remained, but she stopped struggling, and Joe half hauled her out of the foot traffic. She hissed and tried her ankle delicately.

"I'm really sorry, Joe," she said, staring with determination at her ankle. "I… I didn't mean to lash out at you. The ankle really hurts. I appreciate your helping me." It wasn't much of an explanation, but something tugging at Joe's memory helped to fill in the deficiency. He clearly remembered her devastated expression when Tai ordered her not to take drinks from anyone but him and someone else at the party, remembered her initial aversion when she found herself seated with two boys. His body shuddered as he connected all of the evidence, and he fervently hoped that he was over-analyzing and coming to a false conclusion.

"Don't worry about it," Joe muttered. "Can you walk?" Amy took a tentative step, and, although her body lurched, she managed it alright.

"It will be fine when I walk it off. No real damage, as far as I can tell." She swallowed hard, wiped her eyes, and made her way back into the flow of traffic. "We had better hurry if we want to get to class on time."

Joe fell into step beside her, ready to grab her should she falter, but she held firm. He wondered if she sensed that he knew more than she wanted him too, because an uncomfortable distance appeared between them, like an invisible wall. He hoped she would return to her sunny disposition before too long, as trying as that sometimes was.

That Afternoon

Izzy stared at his monitor, but he just couldn't focus on the program he was working on. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, trying to pinpoint the source of his distraction. Joe was working at his desk about two yards behind him, but he was completely silent, so that wasn't an issue. The window and door of their dorm room were both closed, and it was still fairly early in the afternoon, so there was no noise from the hallway. The temperature was fine. He wasn't particularly hungry, and he had a water bottle. He stared dolefully at the exposed pipes in the ceiling and sighed.

He had only been waffling when he analyzed all the potential sources of distraction, and he knew it. The problem was purely mental. He shifted in his seat, and the chair squealed in response.

"What's wrong?" Joe asked, and Izzy turned to face him, brow raised.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He had no idea how Joe would know about his discomfort when he was focused on his studies. Izzy certainly hadn't said anything about being distracted.

Joe shook his head and grinned. "I know you, Izzy. You've been sighing every few minutes for the last half hour, and I haven't heard any typing or clicking. What's the matter?"

Izzy clasped his hands and stared at Joe for a moment. Although Joe's study habits made him reclusive, and his neuroticism made him difficult to deal with on occasion, he was remarkably perceptive when it came to the thoughts and feelings of others, at least when he made an effort. Izzy couldn't help but envy him for that. He didn't have a single social grace, unless you counted his politeness, but that seemed to make him stick out just as much as his other tendencies. But right now, he was a little unhappy about Joe's ability. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about this.

"I suppose I've been thinking about that party," he said, hedging around the point. Joe lifted an eyebrow and wheeled his desk chair a bit closer.

"What about it?" he asked, and Izzy pressed his brow down and sighed. Apparently this was going to be a full-on discussion.

"It's really nothing. I just… I was thinking about the girl we met." Avoiding her name seemed like a way to distance himself from her, as if he could talk about her without actually talking about her. He pulled back in surprise when he noticed the expression passing over Joe's face. His eyes had gone unfocused and dreamy, and his lower lip dropped a little, while the upper lip curved into a smile. He looked… Well, bluntly, he looked ridiculous.

"God, she was gorgeous," he murmured, and Izzy's eyebrows shot up, nearly flying off his face.

"I, I mean. Yes, she was certainly attractive in her own way. Do you remember that place with all the elves in that movie?" He tilted his head and tried to remember the name of the film. He wasn't interested in movies, but he couldn't avoid seeing this one, as one of their middle school teachers had been a fan and had shown them scenes during class instead of teaching. Izzy had read a textbook through most of it, but he did remember just a bit. "There was something almost mystical about her. But she wasn't tremendously good-looking, unless my judgment really is that poor on the subject."

Joe looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "_What?_" he cried, crossing his arms. "She was the most beautiful person I've ever met." He paused and frowned thoughtfully. "But why on earth would you compare her to an elf? There was nothing mystical about her. If anything, she seemed almost too earthly. I got the feeling she knows too well what she can do to a man with a glance."

Understanding dropped into Izzy's brain with the force of a cascading boulder, and he cracked a smile. "I was referring to Amy, not Mimi," he said, holding his hands out. Mimi held no interest for him whatsoever. Too many girls of that flighty, self-centered disposition had looked down on him over the years for him to give her a second thought, despite her beauty.

Joe blinked and leaned back in his chair. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "I just assumed… It's hard to notice Amy with Mimi around, although Amy's nice. Actually, I found out today that we have a few classes in common, and she might be getting me Mimi's number. Maybe I should stop by and ask about that later… I wonder if that would seem too pushy?" He calmed back down by degrees, then half-smiled. Something about his expression had Izzy just a bit worried, although he couldn't say exactly why. "Why has she been on your mind? That's not exactly typical for you. And I seem to remember you brushing me off when I suggested that you might be interested in her."

Izzy pressed his forehead into his palm and exhaled slowly. This what the point of the conversation that he had hoped to avoid. "I have no idea, but I wish it would stop. I have things to do."

"She said she lives on the fourth floor," Joe reminded him. His expression was an odd mix of interest, hope, and seriousness, with his eyes wide but his brow pressed down. "Go see if she's in her room."

"Why?" Izzy shot back, feeling just a touch annoyed. "I told you, I have things to do."

"Izzy." Joe sighed and placed his palms against his knees. "Do you have any idea how rare it is for you to show interest in new people? I'm not really interested in having lots of relationships myself, so don't take this the wrong way, but I've been your only real friend for years. And this is the first time you've mentioned having any kind of interest in a girl, passing or no, ever since-"

"I'm not interested in discussing that," Izzy said, tilting his chair back towards his computer. His voice was high and tight, and he wished he could pull the words and their revealing tone back, but that wasn't possible. His hand clenched around his mouse so tightly that the plastic squealed beneath the pressure. He could hear Joe take a deep breath behind him.

"Can you at least tell me why she's stuck in your head?" Izzy felt his body twitch, and Joe must have seen it, because he tsked. "Listen, I'm just curious. Like I said, you never seem to think about people, except for your parents."

Izzy drummed his long, dexterous fingers against the faux wooden surface of his desk. He was bitterly wishing that he had made something up at the start of this conversation, but his tendency was to default to the truth. But, as much as he disliked taking a closer look at his emotions, the rational part of himself had to admit that this was the best way to work through them and cast them aside. So he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to relax as he analyzed himself.

"I'm not really sure why. I think part of it is just her eyes. There was something entrancing about them, and I almost felt as if she was looking past everything in the room and into some other place and time entirely. It was…different, interesting. As for the rest…" He paused and lowered his head. "She was very cheerful, but it wasn't forced or practiced. She just seemed truly, authentically sweet and sunny. Typically, people are only at their most natural when they are displaying negative traits, when their proverbial 'true colors' show from beneath their veneer of feigned personality." His hands closed around the edge of the desk, and he watched the veins appear as bulges beneath his skin as he applied pressure.

There was no immediate response, so Izzy faced Joe again. He found him staring thoughtfully at the far wall. "You're so pessimistic about people," he said at last, shaking his head. "But it certainly sounds like Amy is drawing you in. Wouldn't it be interesting to explore that?"

"It would be interesting to finish my program," Izzy shot back, but his tone was light, almost airy. He was signaling that Joe's suggestion wasn't of interest to him, and judging by the way Joe's facial muscles tightened, he was well aware of it. He turned back to his computer. "And what are you, my psychologist?" he muttered under his breath.

"I'm your friend," Joe said, and Izzy felt his brow rise. He hadn't expected Joe to hear him. "I just think that you should get to know her if she interests you. I think you want to widen your circle more than you're willing to admit, even to yourself. I've known you forever, and you've always been withdrawn, but ever since that mess with Shauna, you've really reached new levels of isolation."

A wave of nausea swept over Izzy, leaving him feeling sick and disoriented. It was followed by shame, by self-loathing, and by misery, although he tried to snuff out that last before he could identify it. By now, he should be able to hear her name without feeling ill due to a potent cocktail of negative emotions. This was beyond ridiculous; when was he going to heal, or grow up, or do whatever it was that people did to purge themselves of excruciating memories?

There was a long pause, and Joe sighed. "Just promise me you'll talk to her again sometime soon."

Izzy made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and returned his attention to his program.

A Few Days Later

The truth was that Amy was always seeking privacy on campus. She slept a few feet away from Sora every night. When she showered, nothing but an unlocked door and a flimsy, semi-transparent curtain stood between her naked body and a public hallway. When she walked to class, she shouldered her way through a crowd of students, and when she sat in a lecture, she scrunched herself up to avoid knocking into her peers. Sometimes she felt like she was more likely to run into a unicorn than a quiet, solitary moment around here.

That was why she had no problem taking her lunches on her own in the cafeteria. Many college students, she knew, were aghast at the very thought of eating by themselves, but Amy truly enjoyed popping her earbuds in, opening a book, and ignoring everyone and everything around her for a while. So she waited in line in the deli section of the cafeteria, ordered a turkey sandwich and pretzels, grabbed a bottled water, paid, and made her way to the packed seating area. Amy sighed at the sight of the crowd, then started walking about, hoping to find a quiet spot tucked away in some back corner. There was, she knew, a large area that received little traffic, mostly due to the fact that you had to climb a small, half-hidden flight of stairs to reach it. Amy lifted her tray a little and picked her way through the thin spaces between the forest of linoleum tables, making her way to that secret sanctuary.

The racket of babbling students slipped further and further away as Amy climbed the stairs, and each step provided her with a separate injection of relief. When she stepped onto the last one, she saw that there were only about ten people spread over the large room. She smiled broadly and moved further into the room, heading towards the windows. Although she had selected a table and was already wondering which playlist she would select on her mp3 player, the sight of a head of vividly red hair made her come to a complete pause. The short cut told her that the person was male, but it was impossible to see his face from this angle, because he was staring into the faintly luminous screen of a laptop. Half of a sandwich waited, forgotten and half-suspended, in his left hand. His right hand alternated between clicking and moving the pointer with the touchpad. Amy tilted her head and tried to inch closer without attracting his attention. She'd be pretty embarrassed if he noticed her and turned out to be a stranger. But soon she afforded herself a view of his profile, and the boy's deep-set eyes and delicate, sloping jawline identified him as Izzy.

Amy rocked back on her heels, hesitating. This was the first time she had seen Izzy since the party, and she was somewhat surprised by the faint sense of pleasure and eagerness that the sight of him caused. Still, she did want to read her book and listen to music, and Izzy wasn't even giving his sandwich the time of day. Surely, he didn't want to speak to her (not that she thought he would talk to the sandwich, although that made for an amusing picture, and she spent a moment entertaining herself with it). But Izzy must have noticed her slight swaying in his peripheral vision, because he suddenly glanced towards her. Amy smiled automatically as their eyes met, but she had to fight to keep it there. Something unidentifiable passed through those dark eyes when he recognized her, she was sure of it. She had no idea if he was happy to see her or annoyed at the prospect of having to talk to someone over lunch. He was smiling slightly, but the expression seemed more polite than anything else. They regarded each other in silence for a moment, and it was massively awkward.

Aggravated by the strange feeling running between them, Amy tossed her hair and stepped closer. "Hi, Izzy. May I join you?" Then she worried her lower lip and backtracked. She realized suddenly that she didn't know Izzy well enough to behave imperiously towards him. "I mean. You're busy. If you would rather I leave you alone, that's fine."

Izzy hesitated for a moment, then pulled out the chair beside him. "By all means," he murmured, and Amy grinned. She remembered suddenly that his formal way of speaking had delighted her at the party. If she gave her imagination glorious free reign, she could almost convince herself that she was speaking to someone out of an Austen novel. She sat down and placed her tray in front of her, then angled her chair so that she was facing him more.

"Thank you," she said, popping a pretzel into her mouth. She glanced at his plate and saw that he had opted for chips with his sandwich. "They always give me more pretzels than I could ever hope to eat; would you like some?" Izzy smiled faintly and took a few. Somewhat encouraged by his acceptance, Amy continued, allowing herself to say whatever popped into her head, as was her wont. "I'm glad I ran into you. I've been wanting to stop by your room, but Tai mentioned something about you not liking visitors, and Joe kept emphasizing that the two of you are busy."

Izzy's answering smile was somewhat rueful. "Joe and I are not the most social of creatures, or so I am informed with infuriating frequency. But it's not as if we're pariahs. Please, feel free to visit, if you're so inclined."

"Careful," Amy said, picking up her sandwich. "I will take you up on that. How often do I get to talk to someone who busts the word 'pariah' out?" She took a bite, swallowed, and finished her thought. "The answer is: not nearly often enough." Izzy exhaled somewhat sharply, and Amy belatedly identified it as a sound of amusement. It was too polite to be called a snort, but too understated to be called a chuckle. Amy smiled and found herself inching her chair closer to him. He was so strange, so unlike anyone else she had ever met before, and it piqued her interest. "Izzy, what's the rest of your day like?" she asked. Then she blinked and pulled back just a touch. The words had popped right out of her mouth with no real input from her.

Izzy finally seemed to remember that he was here to eat, and he ate some of the sandwich in his hand. Amy had the sneaking suspicion that he was stalling, using the time to pick apart her question, to wonder why she would ask what he was doing today. Amy hardly knew him, but he was clearly the type to over-think things. "I'm actually almost done for the day," he said at last. "I have one more class."

"Me, too!" Amy cried, pressing her hands together with delight. Why having something so arbitrary as the relative timing of their classes in common pleased her was beyond her, but she latched on to the pleasant feeling anyway. "I know it's early to be done for the day, but I take all the earliest classes I can. I like to be done with everything early. Most of my days end around two, except for labs."

She paused and looked at Izzy, and his eyes widened ever so slightly. He seemed a little surprised to find himself required to speak. "Mm," he grunted. His solemn, heavy neutral expression seemed designed to discourage people from trying to talk to him, but it pulled Amy in like a magnet. Without really realizing it, she vowed to get this recalcitrant boy to talk to her, to really _talk_ to her, damn it!

"Soooo," she pressed, drumming the table with her splayed hands, "what are you doing later? Maybe we can hang out? What with it being Friday, and all." This time, the widening of his dark eyes was pronounced. He paled a little and drew back, tilting his laptop so that her view of his face was somewhat cut off. It was a horrified refusal, and Amy was unable to prevent her rapid deflation. Her shoulders drooped and her eyes averted, and she felt her lower lip drop. Color rose to her face. She had never been popular in high school, but she had been more or less well thought of, and no one had ever recoiled from her like this before. This, she thought sadly, was what she got for sticking her neck out. Heat, pressure, and pain began to rise to her eyes, and she hastened to stand and retreat before she started tearing up. Her tray trembled in her hands as she lifted it, and she wondered what was wrong with her. Sure, being so blatantly refused would sting for anyone, but surely she was overreacting. She began to mentally count the days since her last period, wondering if she was PMS-ing like a boss.

"S-sorry," she muttered. "I'm bothering you. I'll just… I'll leave you alone." She backed away from the table, turned, and tripped over the leg of her chair. She stumbled, but caught herself before she fell.

"Wait!" Izzy called, and his voice rooted her to the spot with shock. She hadn't expected him to say anything. His voice sounded harried and panicked. "I apologize. That was very rude of me. Please, do come back. It would be my pleasure to spend some time with you."

Amy turned around and raised a brow at him, willing the moisture to disappear from her eyes. "The hell it would!" she said, twirling her hip outward and slamming a fist against it. The gentle, wet touch of a tear on her cheek had her hissing in frustration. Damn it all to hades and back! Amy willed herself to wildly embrace her spike of temper, to use it to banish her hurt, but she simply lacked the temperament to hold on to anger in situations that were not dire.

Izzy pulled away from the table and his laptop and held his palms out towards her in a pacifying gesture. "Please, Amy. Have a seat and allow me to explain myself." Amy shifted her weight from foot to foot and worried her lower lip, weighing her options. But the way he spoke reminded her distantly of the scene in _Pride and Prejudice _where Darcy leaves a letter for Elizabeth explaining his perceived misdeeds, and that had her settling her butt back in her chair. She moved her chair back, putting more distance between them, made herself comfortable, and fixed the redhead with an expectant look that had him squirming slightly.

"Well… To be quite frank… You're right. It would be far easier for me to ignore you and do what I normally do." He leaned in closer to her and lowered his voice. "I don't have much experience with social situations. I've never even been able to discern what the phrase 'hang out' means." He laughed awkwardly, a sound that had absolutely no humor in it. It was clearly an attempt to make light of what he was saying, and a flimsy one at that. Amy frowned, balanced an elbow on her knee, and placed her chin in her upturned palm. Izzy was really making an attempt to talk to her, was actually saying something that she could use against him if she chose to. Once she realized that, she scooted her seat closer than it had been before and lightly touched his knee with two fingers.

"Eh," she said, shrugging. "It's just a mannerism that kids use to say that they want to spend time together without being specific. Honestly, sometimes I think it's a way to scope out how the other person feels about you. If you say hang out and the other person shows up for a chat later, that means one thing. If they invite you to dinner, I guess that could mean something else. So, I guess I should be less vague. We can do whatever you want. Do you like to bowl? You know there's an alley beneath the student center, right? I mean, I'm awful at it, but it's pretty fun. Or you could come to my room and we could play Halo 4. Or we could play with Matt and Tai, too! We're pretty good, you know! Or we could just talk or do our homework together. We could grab dinner. Whatever." She wasn't really sure what to make of someone who clearly had no social graces whatsoever, but she was determined not to judge him or think badly of him because of it. For all she knew, there was a reason, and she very much understood people having their reasons.

Izzy pressed a hand to his chin, a mannerism that Amy was already deeply associating with him. From the looks of it, none of those options had especially sounded good to him, unless she was reading him wrong and he was thinking of something else entirely. "Could that really be the appeal of the phrase 'hang out?'" he asked quietly. Amy pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Did you hear anything I said after that?" she asked, and he twitched with surprise.

"Ah! Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sure they're all amusing activities." He clasped his hands together between his knees and smiled half-heartedly.

"Riiiiiiiiiight," Amy said, grinning and arching a brow at him. "Don't look so enthused. I might get the wrong idea."

A quick, short laugh burst from Izzy's lips, and a look of pure shock followed it. He shook his head briefly and regarded her silently for a long moment. Amy blinked, confused by his sudden return to seriousness. His eyes were working their way up and down her body from head to toe, but he didn't linger on her chest, hips, or butt the way most boys did. She got the idea that he was just…analyzing, using her body language to come to some conclusion about her. Amy felt herself start to shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"There… There is something I like to do that I haven't done in a while," he said slowly. "Would you perhaps care to accompany me?"

"Ah," Amy replied, perking up and batting her eyes playfully. Yes, she really loved the way he talked. It sparked her wit and seemed to give her permission to wield her own impressive vocabulary. "But you've neglected to mention what this activity is."

Izzy's lips twisted into a wry smile, one of the first true smiles he had given her without the influence of alcohol. "I'm under the impression that females enjoy surprises."

Amy tipped her head back automatically, laughing in a sharp caw like a crow. "Hahaha! Don't you 'female' me, Izzy! My name is Amy!" Then she sobered and wrapped her arms around her upper body. "And I'm sorry, I really don't mean to sound rude, but I can't go to an unknown place with a boy I don't know well, no matter how nice he seems."

Izzy blinked, and his lips parted. He drew himself back into his chair and nodded, and the traces of humor faded from his face. "Yes, of course. I apologize; I didn't mean to put you in that position. I'd like to suggest that we go roller skating this evening. There's a rink about fifteen minutes away. I'd be happy to provide you with the address before we leave."

Amy stared blankly at him. That raised a lot of questions for her in a small span of time. "You like to roller skate?" she asked suspiciously.

That dry smile appeared on his face again. "Shocking, I know," he sighed, holding his hands out. "But yes, I'm actually very fond of it. I own skates."

Amy fixed him with an uncertain look and pulled her face back, still not entirely buying that Izzy would like roller skating. But she had the answer to her first question, so she went ahead with number two. "You mean it's a fifteen minute walk, or do you have a car?"

"The latter," Izzy answered. His hand went to the back of his neck, and he sighed, and Amy couldn't help but wonder why. But that curiosity didn't last long; her mind chugged right along to the next conclusion.

"You mean you can escape this stupid place whenever you want to?" she cried, pulling back. "How lucky!" She collapsed against the frame of the chair and sighed. "My parents would never buy me a car…"

"I bought it," Izzy said, and Amy could hear the testiness in his voice. "It's second hand, it's nothing fancy, but it's completely operational and in good repair." Amy found herself smiling. This boy just kept rising and rising in her estimation.

"You bought it?" she echoed. "That's so grown up!"

Izzy colored just a little, and he leaned back and shrugged, as if to say that it was no big deal. "Are there any other questions?" he asked. His tone was harried, but almost warm, at least compared to how he had spoken so far. Amy smiled in response.

"Yes. I haven't roller skated since I was a little girl, and I'm going to be completely clueless. Will that bother you?" She worried her lower lip anxiously. At this point, she was surprisingly eager to go, and she was worried that this might be a deal breaker.

"Not at all," Izzy said, and she sighed with relief. Then he glanced at his laptop and blinked. "Ah, it's later than I thought! I need to finish eating and go to my next class. The roller skating rink doesn't open until later. Shall I stop by your room at seven o'clock?"

"Yeah!" Amy was so pleased that she giggled a little, then returned her attention to her food, which had been laying in forlorn loneliness during their discussion. They chatted about other, lighter topics for a few minutes as they ate (well, Amy chatted and Izzy nodded every now and then), and then they parted, heading towards their separate classes.

Amy left the cafeteria in much higher spirits than she had entered it with.


	7. Second Thoughts

That Evening

_What the deuce was I thinking?! _Izzy demanded of himself as he paced around his dorm room. It was half past six, and he was berating himself in every phrase of every language he knew (he only spoke English, but was surprisingly well-versed in the many swears and ejaculations of the world) for having offered to take Amy out. That girl was dangerous, very dangerous. He was quickly becoming aware that, when he was with her, he was lulled into a softer, gentler state, one where he found himself concerned with her feelings, one where he revealed more of his heart over the course of one conversation than he usually did during a year-long acquaintance. But, now that he was in his room and safely out of her power, he was back to his normal self, and he had no desire to leave his sanctuary.

What _was _it about her that tore his defenses down? Was it those huge, dark eyes, which almost made her seem like a sentient doe rather than a girl? Or was her earnest personality putting him at ease? He considered each option, but shook his head when no answer sparked in his mind. At any rate, what mattered now was deciding what to do about their plans tonight. He tilted his head as he tried to determine just how rude it would be to back out. But his mother, he knew, would be cringing in her living room if she had any inkling that he was considering brushing someone off so blatantly. Izzy hissed through his teeth in frustration.

"Izzy! What in the world is your problem? You look half-crazy!"

Izzy froze mid-step at the sound of Joe's voice. Heat rose to his face at being caught pacing like a beast in a cage. "I didn't hear you coming in," he said, lowering his hovering foot to the floor. He sank into his computer chair, sitting backwards and wrapping his arms around the backrest.

"So, what, you always walk holes in the floor when I'm out?" Joe asked, raising his brow as he sat his duffel bag by his bed. Izzy fixed him with a deadpan glare, refusing to dignify that comment with a response. He pretended not to see Joe's slight grin. _Great_, Izzy thought as he watched his friend make himself comfortable in his desk chair. _Is this going to be another heart-to-heart discussion? _

They stared at each other for a moment, Izzy with his face impassive, and Joe with his set in a look of interest and patience. Izzy's dark eyes flicked towards his wristwatch, and he grimaced. He didn't have much time before he was supposed to meet Amy; that meant that he would have to satisfy Joe's curiosity without even allowing himself a dignified amount of hedging. He slumped in his chair.

"Amy noticed me in the cafeteria today, and somehow I ended up asking her to go roller skating with me tonight. And, to quote Melville, 'I would prefer not to.'" He sat back and crossed his arms, hoping to at least look dignified in the face of Joe's sputtering.

It took Joe about four seconds to process what he had said, and then his eyes bulged, and he rose, nearly tripping on his chair. "Izzy! Really? _Really?!_" Izzy felt no need to acknowledge that outburst, so a long moment passed in silence before Joe collapsed back into his seat, which he began to swivel left and right slightly. Suddenly, he frowned and slammed his hands on his knees. "Wait, you're not seriously thinking about backing out, are you? You can't stand her up! How would you feel if she canceled a date on you? You have to think about the other person, Izzy! And, anyway, she's my lab partner, and I've already met up with her twice to work on homework. She's a nice girl. A little strange, and a little…overly cheerful, but very quick-witted and polite. I'd hate to have to find another person to study with because I'm guilty by association to you." He cleared his throat noisily. "Plus, you know, she got me Mimi's number."

Izzy raised an eyebrow. "Two things. First, the word 'date' was never mentioned. We're 'hanging out.'" He used air quotes, an extremely rare thing for him to do, since he found it obnoxious. "Second, have you called said number?"

"Oh, no, Izzy," Joe said, holding his hands out palm-forward. "Don't try to make this about me. And, anyway, what does hang out even mean, really?"

Izzy couldn't help but perk up a little, both because Joe also hadn't known the meaning of that phrase, and because he had an answer. "It's a phrase that allows you to suggest spending time with someone while still being vague about your motives."

"I… I see." Joe crossed his arms and tipped his head, then was still for a moment, mulling over the information. "That's pretty tricky. You said you asked her out; what were your motives, then?"

Izzy pressed his palm to his forehead and sighed. "I don't know. She asked me if I wanted to hang out with her, and I blanched, and she started tearing up. Then I just said whatever I could to get her to cheer up before she started crying." He didn't mention the real concern and panic he had felt when he realized that he had hurt her feelings, and he certainly wasn't going to admit that he had freely told her about his lack of social skills. He may be damned, but he could damn well keep it to himself.

Joe sighed and leaned backwards. "Izzy, really? You made her cry?" Izzy frowned and began to tap his finger against his knee.

"I said 'tear up.' Women are so _weepy_…" He stared at the ceiling as he spoke, mostly because he felt guilty over his sweeping generalization, and for having made Amy tear up. He was skilled at being polite, even under trying circumstances, but he hadn't received enough attention from his peers over the years to know how to handle one-on-one conversations that lasted longer than a few simple exchanges… _especially_ with girls. And the few things he had learned from Shauna had only made his heart harder, more bitter.

When he finally shifted his eyes to Joe, he saw that his friend was fixing him with a hard stare. "Okay, Izzy. Here's what you're going to do. You're going to grab your wallet, cell, and keys, and you're going to show Amy a good time. You're going to listen when she talks to you, and you're not going to say anything condescending if she says something strange or less-than-brilliant. Oh, and she startles at physical contact, so don't touch her at all if she doesn't initiate. And you are absolutely _not_ going to let her know that you would rather be somewhere else. Do you understand?"

Izzy's cheeks were burning by the time Joe finished. "Are you quite finished, Father?" he drawled. Joe snorted and stood, shaking his head.

"Look, if you really don't want to spend more time with her, fine. But you have to get through tonight. As if spending a few hours with a sweet girl is such a chore…" Izzy ignored him and stood up to collect the things he needed. He tried not to hear the voice of his memory, which was reminding him that, despite some awkward moments here and there, he had enjoyed being around her so far, for the most part.

But life, he reflected as he left the room, was so much easier and safer in front of his computer.

Elsewhere

_Oh, my stars. What was I thinking? _Amy was sitting on her bed and strumming her guitar, paying no mind to what she was playing. She couldn't believe she had agreed to go out with Izzy. She hardly knew him, and she was putting herself entirely in his power, getting in a car and going somewhere, honestly, how careless could she be? She chewed her lower lip and stared at Sora's rug, not really seeing it. _Tai would go ballistic if he knew about this…_

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sora said, looking over at her from her desk. Blinking, Amy stopped playing and allowed the guitar to hang from its strap.

"Eh?" She tilted her head, and Sora grinned in response.

"You look like a puppy or a bird when you do that," she said, swiveling her chair towards her. "Did you know you've been playing the same cord for the last three minutes? What's on your mind?"

Sighing, Amy stood and removed the guitar, placing it on its stand. "Aw, man. Was I really?" She stretched her back and began to walk absently around the room. "I don't want to bother you with it, Sora."

Sora watched her progress closely, and Amy realized that most people didn't meander when they had conversations. She forced herself to sit on her bed again, smiling politely at Sora. "If you really don't want to talk, I understand," her roommate said. "But I often find that a friendly ear is helpful, and I don't mind listening."

"That's… That's really kind of you," Amy said, drawing her knees up to her body. She wasn't sure how and why the fates had smiled on her in the form of her new roommate. Like her, Sora was considerate, polite, and neat. However, unlike her, Sora was truly warm and helpful to everyone. Amy tried to be friendly and nice, but she rarely went out of her way for people she wasn't already very close to. She suddenly felt a little humbled.

Sora smiled obligingly, and Amy sighed and pulled her legs in even tighter. "Okay, so basically I agreed to go roller skating with this guy I met at a party last week. He seems nice, but I've only ever seen him twice, and now I feel kind of nervous to be going somewhere with him and relying on him for the transportation." She rubbed the back of her neck and laughed nervously. "I probably sound like a crazy neurotic."

Her roommate glanced at her knees for a moment, and Amy could tell that she was trying to think of a polite way to phrase her reply. "Maybe just a little?" she said at last. "I mean, on the one hand, it's best to be cautious. But too much caution may keep you from doing things that you would have enjoyed. It seems unlikely that anything bad will happen."

_It always seems unlikely, _Amy thought sadly. Something of her mood must have passed on her face, because Sora rolled herself a little closer.

"Are you alright? I mean, did this guy really give you so much of a reason to be worried? What's he like?" Then she smiled slightly, showing just a trace of that girlish desire to know about everyone's love life. "Do you like him? You haven't mentioned having an interest in any boys."

Amy fought to arrange her face into a cheerful expression, hoping to mask the haze of insecurities that seemed to be swirling around her. "I'm not interested in anyone right now, no boyfriend or crushes or what have you. As for Izzy, he's… Let's say he's _different_. He has this great way of talking, very polite and proper, and he seems to be really smart. But, somewhere underneath that, he's spirited and vitriolic, and it's really fun to watch his manners crumble and the rest rise up. Oh, also, he's really bad at talking to people, so that's interesting." She paused and stood back up under the influence of a sudden thought. "Do I look okay?" she asked, turning around for Sora's inspection.

Sora's smile became coquettish, and Amy colored, realizing that she had just indicated concern for her appearance when preparing to meet a boy that she said she wasn't interested in. Then she realized that she hadn't thought about how she looked for months, and she buried that nugget away at once, knowing that it was too dangerous for inspection now.

Sora stared at her for a moment, then went to her closet and opened it. "You look cute, but you may not want to wear a dress roller skating," she said, and Amy slapped her forehead with her palm. Of course, she was right. She couldn't believe that she hadn't thought of that herself, but you stopped thinking of that kind of thing when you were incredibly clumsy and never did anything physical.

Sora began to inspect her clothes. "You own a lot of dresses," she said after a pause. Amy shrugged.

"They look good on me. My figure is like that, you know, all curves and more leg than torso. Plus, I'm not very good at matching tops and bottoms, so, you know, problem solved."

"Do you have any spandex leggings?" Sora asked. Amy nodded, and Sora glanced back at the clothes. "Maybe you could wear one of these simpler dresses and those… But make sure you bring thick socks, the skates are rentals. Do you have any change for the shoe lockers? You can take some of mine, if you need it." She pulled one of the dresses out, a simple cotton number in a deep, saturated shape of purple. Amy blinked at the string of advice and kind offers.

"You… You're really nice, Sora." Amy stepped up shyly and took the dress, unsure of why receiving kindness from someone she wasn't extremely close to made her turn quiet and unsure.

"Not for long," Sora said, grinning. "This Izzy… Is he cute?"

"Sora!" Amy cried, laughing. Now teasing she could handle, and she felt herself growing much more comfortable. Sora fixed her with an expectant smile, and Amy tried to get her thoughts together enough to answer. She stalled by beginning to strip, quite forgetting that not everyone belonged to drama club in high school and was thus used to watching clothes fly off. Sora sat back down at her desk and focused her eyes on whatever she was working on over there.

"I mean, he's not as good looking as Tai and Matt are, you know? But, to be honest… I kind of prefer it that way." Amy paused to grab the dress Sora had indicated and to slip it over her head, and then she began to shimmy the leggings on. "If you're not used to them, boys are too intimidating when they're so handsome, and your brain can go funny if you're not careful. Anyway, yeah, he's cute. He's got these serious eyes and this heavy brow, but I swear, his smile and his voice are just a little feminine. Oh, and his hair, I have never seen hair that color before, it's practically blood red! And he's so pale and scrawny and short, I wonder if he ever goes outside? Probably not… I guess if he gives me any trouble, I can just sit on him!"

Sora produced a sputtering laugh. "What! Amy, you say he's cute, and then you describe him ridiculously. Which is it, then?"

"Cute. He's cute. I think so, anyway, not that it matters. But then, I like the geeky type. That's what happens when you grow up being pestered by the athletic type and the cool type, maybe."

There was an obnoxiously loud rap on the door, the sound of someone drilling their knuckles into wood, and Amy broke off with a grin. "Well, speak of the devil!" She trotted to the door, recognizing Tai's knock when she heard it, and threw it open. Only when she was staring him in the face did she remember that she probably didn't want him around right now. Then she noticed Matt and Mimi standing behind him, and she had to fight down a groan. Why was everyone at her door a few minutes before Izzy was going to show? The bit of cheerfulness she had gained from describing Izzy and being treated kindly by Sora fled away instantly, replaced with twanging nerves.

"We're on our way to the cafeteria. You in?" Tai asked. He leaned past her, and Amy realized that he was checking to see if Sora was there. "Sora, you're welcome to join us."

"I ate already," Amy said quickly. And she had; Izzy hadn't said anything about dinner, and she was fairly sure the average roller skating rink didn't offer anything you'd really want to eat, anyway.

"By yourself?" Mimi asked, poking her head into the room. "Aww, laaaame. If you're gonna eat dinner, you should stop by and ask if I want to go." Then she came forward and put her hands on Amy's hips, squishing into the ample curves there. "Oooo, cute dress! A little plain, though, do you have some ribbon? A nice bow just below the girls would accent the slimmest part of your body."

It took effort not to stare down at her own chest when Mimi mentioned 'the girls,' but somehow she managed. "You just assume I went by myself if I didn't go with you?" Amy asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, as far as I could tell, your only friends when I knew you were me, Matt, Tai, and their kid siblings. Otherwise you'd always wander off by yourself, staring at the clouds and tripping over stuff." She turned to Tai and Matt. "Has she gotten any more social?"

"Not even a little," Matt said, shaking his head. "But she's still remarkably gifted at chattering nonstop."

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Amy twirled her hips out, intending to slam her fists onto them, but she remembered that Mimi's hands were in the way at the last second. "I'm not asocial! I've studied with Joe twice this week, so there!" She didn't need to glance at the mirror hanging on the outer surface of Sora's closet to know that her face was red. Most of the time, Amy had a preference for being alone, unless her special people were involved. She was getting sick of people thinking she was some kind of alien because she didn't seek out companionship every moment of every day. Besides, most people were so _boring_, thinking only of television, sports, fashion, gossip, sex, money, and of their own little lives.

"You've seen Joe?" Mimi cried, releasing her at last. "You gave him my number, right? He still hasn't called me." Amy sighed and tipped her head.

"He's kind of a nervous person. He'll need time to work up his courage," Amy said, patting Mimi's shoulder. "I would take it as a compliment."

"Courage? What's he need courage for, I don't bite." Mimi tossed her hair over her shoulder in an annoyed sort of way.

"Look," Tai said, crossing his arms. "We're not getting anywhere like this. So Amy's out. Are you hungry, Sora?"

Sora opened her mouth, attempting to answer the question for the second time, but was cut off again by the sound Amy was most fearing.

"Excuse me." Izzy stood in the open doorway behind Matt, and it felt like everyone turned in unison to look at him. The muscles in his face tightened visibly in response.

Amy brushed past Tai, Mimi, and Matt, making her way towards the little redhead. "Right, then," she said, trying to speak brightly, but her tone came out stiff and brittle. "We'll just… We'll just go, then."

"Without shoes?" Izzy asked, glancing at her bare feet. "I can't say I recommend that." Amy could hear Mimi and Sora chuckling, but Tai and Matt were either sharing a look or staring at her back. She was looking at Izzy, but she knew them well enough to be certain.

"R-right, shoes!" Amy said, laughing awkwardly. She backtracked into the room, and Tai and Matt rose an eyebrow at her in perfect unison. She pretended not to notice, focusing instead of her selection of shoes with more attention than she had ever given them in the past. If it wasn't the face of one of her boys, then it was fascinating at the moment.

Finally, she selected a pair and shoved her feet in them, and she laced them up halfway before Sora pointed out that she wasn't wearing socks, which wasn't ideal if she was going to rent skates. Impossibly, even more color flooded to her face, and she found herself cursing the incredibly fair complexion that made each and every flustered moment painfully obvious.

"You two doing something tonight?" Tai asked at last. He kept his voice fairly even, by his standards, but Amy could hear the faint rumble deep below the words.

Izzy's voice floated to her from the doorway, and Amy thought she detected strain there, too. "Roller skating, yes."

"Roller skating!" Mimi cried, clapping her hands together. "Oh my gosh, I haven't done that in forever! That would be so fun!"

"Yes," Tai added, and this time the growling wasn't as subtle. "Yes, that _would_ be fun. How are you getting there?"

"Oh, come off it, Tai," Amy snapped. Normally, she would be obeying any and all of Tai's suggestions at this point, but something about having so many people staring at her was making her lose her head. She caught Izzy's eye and gave him a suffering look. "Listen, he hasn't got a shotgun to polish while he grills you. I checked his room after he moved in. You're just going to have to imagine it for the full intended effect." She couldn't decide if his responding expression was meant to be a grin or a grimace.

"I'm afraid I've neglected to bring you a corsage," he said dryly. Amy stepped back without meaning to, bumping into Matt. The buildup of color in her face instantly drained away, and she saw blood in her mind's eye, blood caked on flowers and spread on a corsage's metal clip. A thin shred of skin, every bit as wilted as the petals, hung between the clip's prongs…

Her vision blurred, and her sense of hearing was overwhelmed with a loud ringing sound. She was fairly sure that Izzy was stepping towards her, judging by the advancing haze of red, and she inched away, knowing by smell that Matt (and his distinctive combination of aftershave and a subtle cologne) was at her back. His hands closed on her shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. Her head began to clear by degrees with the comfort of his nearness.

By the time she was fully aware of her surroundings again, Izzy had gone past her and was arguing with Tai in the middle of her room. "I made these plans with Amy. I don't mean to be rude, but I fail to see why I'm suddenly obligated to take everyone else along. My car can only seat five, at any rate."

Tai snorted at the redhead, taking pains, it seemed, to emphasize his greater size by looking down at him. "It's not like it's a date. What does it matter if more people come? And Matt and I will just play rock-paper-scissors, loser takes the bus."

Amy frowned at Tai, taking issue with his assumption that this wasn't a date. True, it wasn't, but it should have been perfectly natural to assume that she could be on one. She was capable of going on a date! Then she thought of the panic attack she had just had, and she sighed. _Maybe I'm not… _

Sora pushed her chair back and stood. "Amy," she said, walking up to her. "So far no one has asked what you think of us joining you and Izzy." There were traces of concern in her voice, and Amy remembered that Sora knew she had felt nervous about going out with Izzy on her own.

Mimi hopped up to her other side, and there was a powerful pleading look in her eyes. "Pleeeease, Amy, it would be so fun!" she said, taking her arm. She made a chirping sound and rubbed her body up against hers affectionately, not unlike a cat meeting its person. Amy stared from face to face, feeling utterly helpless. Although she often dominated one-on-one conversations, she was much more of a follower than a leader, and hated making these kind of decisions. Her mind worked frantically, trying to come up with a way to make everyone happy. Although she wanted to go along with what Tai, Matt, and Mimi wanted, she also didn't want to annoy Izzy, whose relationship with her was much more delicate.

Mimi, she noticed, was fixing her eyes on her face and smiling. "You look like a goldfish," she said, giggling. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm totally trying to bust my way into your date, and you're too nice to tell me to back off. And, anyway, we haven't even eaten yet! Let's all get out of Amy and Izzy's hair, and not be rude, everyone." Tai frowned and stepped forward, definitely looking like he was going to argue, but Matt grabbed his elbow and directed him out of the room. He let the others pass by him, then gave Amy one last look, raising an eyebrow at her.

_This is what you wanted, right? You're okay with this? _Amy had no way of knowing how she could sometimes almost read Matt's mind, but the words were evident, as if she were reading them off of his eyes. She gave him a half-nod, although she knew her eyes were wide and watering slightly. To be honest, she still didn't know what she wanted, but the ship had clearly set sail on her options, and so it was sink or swim.

The door closed, and the sound seemed like a thunderclap, despite the fact that Matt had done it gently. Amy's hands flew together and began to fuss, her fingers interweaving and breaking apart rapidly. After a moment, she glanced at Izzy, and saw that he was fixing her with his analyzing stare.

"Are you aware that you've been behaving incomprehensibly?" His hand went to his chin, and his eyes darkened further under the press of his brow. He was deep in thought, probably trying to make some sense of what had just happened. Amy stared at him for a moment, then doubled over with laughter. This made Izzy step backwards, as if she were mad and he feared it was contagious.

"How… How can someone so polite be so _rude_?" she managed as her laughter died down. Izzy sighed and crossed his arms.

"Ahh. I'm afraid I often fail to respond with the expected social nicety, and that I often misunderstand emotional undercurrents. So, pray, what would the appropriate response have been?" One of his fingers began to tap against his upper arm, and his eyes focused on hers with startling intensity. Suddenly, it seemed like a good thing that Izzy's glance was often averted in concentration. Being the object of his undivided attention made her shiver deep within her bones. She felt like he was looking right through to the core of her, probing for secrets that even she didn't know, and unerringly finding them. Amy had predicted that he was intelligent, based on his choice of majors and his manner of speaking, but now she knew that he was absolutely brilliant. That was the only way to account for the acuity and sagacity flooding through his gaze.

And, suddenly, she was just a little intimidated. Would she have any chance of keeping someone who was so mentally far above her entertained for a few hours? Amy had seen her idle expression in pictures, and she knew that the only thing coming out of her eyes was a sense of distant dreaminess. But Izzy was waiting for her answer, so she tried to push those worries aside and speak.

Grinning shakily, Amy gave her best effort at copying his tenor voice and his peculiar mode of speech. "You seem distraught. What's troubling you?"

Izzy grimaced. "Please don't mimic me. It's unnerving." Then, he shook his head and glanced at the ceiling. "Is it really alright to just ask? Trying to discern what people are thinking is much more diverting, at least when the person is as inscrutable as you. You cycle through emotions and thoughts so quickly, I can hardly monitor it, let alone understand it. Sometimes, I can't even determine what stimulus you're focused on." There was some frustration in his tone, and Amy felt her eyes widen. She saw herself as being very simple, but maybe she was wrong. And she couldn't help but wonder why he would bother to expend so much effort on her, unless, perhaps, he was able to analyze a room full of people simultaneously. It seemed like a wild thought to her, but she was quickly growing convinced that his mental powers bordered on the superhuman.

Izzy was staring at her, and Amy realized that she was supposed to reply, but she had nothing. "I'm sorry, Izzy. I don't know how to respond to that."

He grinned, if reluctantly. "Fair enough. Allow me to try again. Hello, Amy. How are you? I hope the evening finds you well. You look nice. Is there anything I can do for you?" He spat out the ritualistic phrases in quick succession, as if to get them done and over with. An unattractive, snorting chuckle burst out from between Amy's lips.

"You know what?" she said, going to the closet and picking up her purse. "When you're with me, don't worry about the social niceties. I like it better when you say things that no one else says." When she turned around, she saw that Izzy's eyes had widened slightly, and his mouth was left open just a tad. A moment later, he reassembled his face into a typical expression of distant politeness.

"As you will," he muttered, uncrossing his arms at last. "Shall we?" At Amy's nod, he opened the door for her, and they slipped out.

Somehow, Amy forgot entirely about her doubts and nerves, focusing instead on prodding Izzy into a conversation.

**Author's Note: **Oh, this chapter. I don't know how I feel about it, there's so many conflicted emotion here… Makes me wonder about these poor souls! Also, it's really hard to realistically portray how a conversation would go with six people in the room… Anyway, I apologize for how heavy the story has been on Izzy and Amy lately. One more chapter with them exclusively, and then we'll move on to someone else for a little while, I promise. I mean, what are Tai, Matt, Mimi, and Sora even up to lately? Who the heck knows! And what is the deal with Mimi, we haven't even taken a good look at her yet! Talk about a slow moving story! Ah, whatever, I hope you enjoyed it XD


	8. The Dangers of Falling

**Author's Note: **Izzy and Amy geek out kind of heavily in the first 2,000 words or so. Please be patient with it if you're a non geek and have no idea what they're nattering about. They'll start talking about more general stuff soon, I promise! Feel free to ask me if you don't get a reference and you would like it explained.

Izzy had no logical explanation for the rapid mood swings and tense, uncertain behaviors that Amy had exhibited in her dorm room, but by the time he was driving, the good humor she had shown earlier today seemed fully restored. She was prattling cheerfully, asking him questions one moment and talking in long stretches the next, and Izzy found himself splitting his attention between participating in a largely one-sided conversation with her and thinking about what she had said earlier.

_When you're with me, don't worry about the social niceties. I like it better when you say things that no one else says._

The words were simple, and yet they resounded in his head over and over, with all the sweetness and harmony of an orchestra reaching the greatest swell of a brilliant piece. So many people over the years, even beloved ones like his parents and Joe, had tried to convince him to speak normally, to participate in those mind-numbingly dull daily exchanges. _Why_, he had asked himself over and over again, _would I ask someone how their day was when I'm not interested? And why should I modify my natural way of speaking simply because others find it unusual? _He began to imagine walking up to Amy, collapsing into the seat beside her, and simply smiling in greeting. If he wanted to talk about his day, he would. If she wanted to do the same, she would. But there would be no need for those inane exchanges, and they could open with a different topic if they wanted to. Or he could just listen to her chat. She clearly didn't mind his tendency to listen more than speak, and her chattering wasn't offensive, as she spoke intelligently and happily. It was something like listening to a songbird or a wind chime by the window, especially since there was a definite musical quality to her tone.

He began to remember Shauna, scolding him and coaching him through interacting with her friends, complaining when he failed to speak enough. But those thoughts were dangerous and infuriating, and he quickly stifled them.

"So, Izzy," Amy said, tearing her eyes from the window, which they had been riveted to this whole time, "where do you stand on Apple versus Microsoft? Or, rather, Apple versus computers running Windows. Whatever. The terminology gets fuzzy for me, especially when Apple calls non-Apple products PCs, when, by definition, an Apple computer in your home is also a personal computer." Izzy tapped his finger against the steering wheel. It was something of a played out question, but Amy was trying to start a conversation about his interests, and that was more generosity than he normally received.

But, to be honest, he was far more interested in what she thought on the subject. "May I ask you to answer that question first? I'm curious as to what you'll say without my input." He glanced at her and saw that she looked unsure, but willing to go along with him and see where this was going.

"Well, I hope I don't answer wrong and get kicked out of the car," she said, and Izzy grinned. Clearly, she had participated in this conversation at least one other time. "But, how I see it… It seems like if you compare two very similar computers from either company, the Apple product will cost a few hundred more for the same specs. People have tried to tell me that the Apple products are easier to use or safer, but I've never had any safety issues with my Windows computer, and I didn't find the Mac interface any simpler. Just different. Although I've seen some previews of Windows 8, and I have to say that I think I'll stick with 7, thank you. Anyway, bottom line, to me it makes sense to either pocket the difference or get a more powerful computer, so I guess I'm a Microsoft person? But let me tell you, Apple sure knows how to make you feel like you should buy their stuff, hahaha!"

Izzy found himself smiling at the windshield. Amy had provided a reasonable, level-headed argument, and it was a little frightening how rare that was nowadays. "I'm of a similar opinion, although I've had an Apple laptop for years. I finally had to retire it and purchase something more powerful, but I still have it at home. However, I run Windows on my desktop."

Amy nodded and waited for more, but that was all he had to say on the matter. Sensing that it was time for him to put some effort into the conversation, he inquired about her first week of school, and was somewhat surprised to find that he actually was interested. "Pretty good," she said. "It seems like it's going to be tough. I'm taking organismal biology and orgo with Joe, and also calculus, a vocal performance class, and a performance class. I don't much care for orgo or math, but it turns out that Joe is really good at chemistry, and I'm good at biology, so we've been helping each other out. You?"

Izzy sighed, wondering how conceited he was about to sound, but he didn't see the point of lying to her, and he didn't care to expend the effort in thinking of a way to soften his words. Besides, if something in his personality was going to drive her away, well, better now than later. "Well… I've been disappointed so far. I registered for the most advanced classes I could take, but so far the professors haven't mentioned anything I don't know." His hands flexed on the wheel, and he swallowed hard, wondering if she was going to be annoyed, disgusted, offended, or something similar.

Amy turned to him again, and he could feel her staring at his profile. "You sound so put out," she said, and then she sighed deeply. "I was worried about this. You're too smart for me to keep up with."

There was a pause as Izzy tried to think of a way to reply. Most often, when he said things like that, the listener would get ruffled and complain that he was talking down to him or her. Izzy knew he was far more intellectually able than most people, and, while he never pointed that out verbatim, it couldn't help but come up sometimes. It never seemed fair to Izzy. An athlete could out perform another athlete, and he was praised. But if Izzy did something mentally superior, everyone seemed to interpret it as him trying to make everyone in the room look idiotic.

But that line of thinking wasn't getting him any closer to a reply, so he spat out whatever popped into his head, having no other options. "So far, I'd say that you appear quite intelligent. And I've enjoyed your company."

"So far?" Amy echoed, and Izzy grimaced and looked over, intending to retract that part of his phrasing. But he was surprised to find her grinning, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

He returned his attention to the road and exhaled slowly. "I am truly fortunate that your sense of humor is well developed."

"Eh," Amy said, and he could see her shrug in his peripheral vision. "I just don't take myself that seriously. You know, most of the time."

"Most of the time?" Izzy smiled as he turned the car into the skating rink parking lot. "May I ask when you do take yourself seriously?"

"When I'm singing," she said easily. "And when I'm right."

"Oh?" Izzy brought the car to a stop in a parking spot, cut the ignition, and looked over at her, finding himself sharply amused with her spunk. An oddly playful tone snuck into his voice. "And how often, exactly, are you right?"

She sighed and averted her eyes, the perfect picture of overblown regret. "Not nearly so often as I would like."

Izzy shook his head slowly, impressed both with her wit and her ability to use vagueness to her advantage. Her answer could have meant anything; that she wanted to be right all the time, but had made one mistake in her life, that she was rarely right, that she was sometimes right, but wished it were more often… Clever, careful, secretive girl.

"I wouldn't have expected you to be accomplished in misdirection," he said as he rose and shut the car door behind him, "given the strong air of innocence about you."

"It's a trap!" Amy quipped. But Izzy saw the slight, momentary tenseness in her facial muscles before she cleared it away.

Normally he might have tried to find the reason for her moment of discomfort, but he was distracted by what she had said. "You just… You just quoted Star Wars." This revelation seemed to impact his ability to move, because he was still by the car, and she was almost inside the skating rink.

"Yeeeeaah?" she called, her tone uncertain. "What's with the extreme shock? Is there a problem?"

"No. Not at all. But, honestly… You like Star Wars?" He grabbed his skates from the back seat, jogged to catch up to her, then went past her, hastening to open the door before she got there.

"Did Han shoot first?" she replied, grinning. "Didn't you know? I'm kind of a geek. I mean, I don't collect memorabilia or speak fake alien languages, but, yeah, I watch the original trilogy every now and then. Guess the secret's out, now." She thanked him as she went through the doorway, then waited for him to follow. "Why, do you like that stuff? I would have thought that you weren't interested in that kind of thing."

He led the way to the queue for admission, slipping his hands in his pockets as he went. "Normally I'm not much of a fan of passive entertainment, but I suppose I do have something of a weakness for science fiction." She gave him a curious look, so he continued. "I enjoy Star Wars, as well as Futurama and Firefly."

"Whaaaat!" she cried, and her hands flew together with delight. "I love those shows! Hey, you know what? We should play Mass Effect together. I know you said you're not really into games, but it's got a really great story, except for the end of the series, and it's sci-fi, and I think you'd really like it."

They were next, so he was spared from answering. It was a double blessing, both because he wasn't sure how to process finding an attractive, intelligent, socially competent girl who was into geek culture, and because he had no idea how to respond to her video game proposal. He nodded at the girl behind the counter and asked for two tickets and a skate rental, and Amy tugged gently on his shirt sleeve.

"One ticket," she whispered. "I'm paying for mine." He glanced at her, momentarily stunned into silence. Shuana never offered to pay for anything. But then he remembered that they were not, in fact, on a date, and there was a baffling stinging, sinking feeling in his stomach. His hand clenched around his wallet when he identified it as disappointment.

"I suggested that we go roller skating," he said quietly.

"But I'm the one who asked you to do something with me. So, really, I should cover tonight."

"Please, indulge me. Allow a man his pride." Izzy wasn't entirely sure why he was arguing. His mother had drilled politeness, particularly towards women, into his head, and that may have had something to do with it, but he was fairly sure that there was something else at work, as well.

She stared at him for a moment, then grinned enormously. "If you put it like that… I suppose I can oblige you, Mr. Darcy. Thank you." Then she crossed her arms and fixed him with what she surely thought was a firm expression, but her sweet smile and enormous eyes made it too cute to be effective. "But I'll pay next time, okay?" Somehow, it didn't surprise him that she was referencing literature, and that she would compare him to that particular male lead.

Izzy handed over the money, waited for his change, and slipped his wallet back in his pocket. "Hmm? Afraid I didn't hear you." Amy _tched _and gave his shoulder a playful swat, and Izzy smiled, pleased that this was going well enough to warrant a potential 'next time.'

The two of them walked into the main portion of the rink, and Izzy sighed with relief when he saw the full railings around the skating area. Those would be useful for teaching Amy. The place was slightly run down, as everything remotely related to college students seemed to be, but there were no immediately evident problems. The lights were dim, and the inevitable obnoxious disco ball was present, but the music was, surprisingly, pop from the 80's and 90's, which was a relief after having to endure rap and hip hop at a few other rinks he had tried in the past. Thankfully, it wasn't all that crowded. The declining popularity of roller skating was something of a convenience.

By the time he finished having a look at the rink, Amy was returning with her skates. She sat at the bench closest to the opening in the railing and removed her shoes, staring somewhat dubiously at the borrowed footwear. "Are you nervous?" Izzy asked as he sat beside her. He slipped his feet into his skates, then watched her slowly put hers on.

"Yes," she admitted. "The rink floor looks awfully hard."

"Something of an inconsiderate tendency on the part of floors." She smiled, if reluctantly, and Izzy found himself smiling back at her. "I'm going to store my shoes in a locker. Would you like me to put your purse and shoes in with them?"

Amy gave the laces of her skates a massive tug, and she didn't look up when she spoke, as if the task at hand required all of her concentration. "Only if you can promise me that your shoes don't have cooties."

_Silly girl, _Izzy thought, shaking his head. _Strange girl. _"Rest assured," he said, picking up her things. When he came back, she was standing, clinging to the railing like one would a safety line. Her legs trembled beneath her. His brow furrowed with concern, and she must have noticed it, because she tipped her head and smiled ruefully.

"I probably should have told you… I'm kind of a coward, and I'm very clumsy." Oddly, this admission didn't seem to embarrass her. More than anything, she looked frightened and uncertain, and strangely vulnerable. Izzy had no idea what was causing her discomfort, since it seemed too strong to be simple apprehension over learning how to skate, and he was more worried about her than he cared to admit. He cast about in his mind for some way to reassure her, to see her smile and joke the way she had just a few minutes ago.

"Don't worry," he said, skating up to her. "I'll help you. Here." He held his hand out to her, but she edged away slightly, and she began to worry her lower lip with her upper teeth.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to work up my courage from here for a while, and also watch the other skaters." She tried to smile at him, but it looked more like an involuntary twitch of her lips. Baffled, but sensing that she did need a moment, Izzy moved onto the rink.

He got up to speed quickly, and, for a moment, his enjoyment of working his legs and feeling air rush past him made him forget about Amy. As usual, the light physical exertion of skating seemed to kick-start his brain, making his thoughts more fluid, more pliant, more creative, and that was the sensation he was really after. When he was on the opposite side of the rink, he glanced at Amy and saw that she was watching the passing skaters carefully, studying the movement of their bodies. Since she was at least occupied, Izzy allowed himself a few turns around the rink before he came back to her, moving onto the bit of carpet next to her.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, allowing a slight twinge of sarcasm into his tone. One of Amy's arched brows rose slightly, and a bit of color rose to her cheeks. Fantastic; she was rising to his bait, just as he had hoped.

"I'm working my way up to it." Her tone was equal parts defensive and anxious, but that was better than the lost voice she had used when he left her. "You're really good, by the way. I like that thing you do when the rink curves, where you put the one leg behind the other. I'm guessing that lets you take the turns without slowing down?"

"Precisely, and thank you," Izzy said, hoping that no surprise worked its way into his speech. It wasn't every day that he was praised for something athletic. "Now, having seen me skate… Do you trust me to teach you?"

Amy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright. I just hope I don't fall and knock you over."

"You won't. I'm familiar with using the brakes." Amy nodded, then pulled herself to the gap in the railing, using her hands to move herself, rather than the skates. Izzy tried not to frown in response. Finally, she stepped onto the wooden surface, lifting her feet, trying to walk instead of skate, and, at this point, Izzy was fighting not to slam his palm into his face. Her body began to shudder, and she started to drift away from the edge of the rink, which wasn't ideal when there was oncoming traffic. Izzy slid onto the rink and went to the side of her body that was further from the railing. He was fairly sure Joe had said something about not touching her, but she was going to get run over by other skaters if she just stood there, so he took hold of her upper arm, intending to move her closer to the railing.

She began to flail immediately, and Izzy gasped, throwing his weight onto the brakes at the front of his skates. "Amy!" he cried, "what are you doing?" There was a loud, repetitive clacking sound, and Izzy glanced down and saw that she was frantically moving her legs in a running motion. She looked like a cartoon character, working her legs with overblown effort, and yet getting no where, knocking herself off balance and throwing her arms about in an effort to compensate. It looked so ludicrous that he began to laugh, even as he struggled to hold her up by the waist, and Amy seemed to freeze at the sound.

"What's so funny?!" she demanded, her voice high and strained. Smiling, Izzy pushed on her gently, edging her towards the railing, and her hand closed around it.

"You," he answered, so amused that he didn't catch his impoliteness. "You're hilarious. Do you honestly believe that running in skates will get you anywhere?" Confusion drifted into her expression, and she tilted her head slowly. The fear seemed to drip away from her, replaced with uncertainty.

"Eh?" she muttered.

"You want to bend your knees slightly. It will improve your balance, and, frankly, put you closer to the ground in the event that you fall. Then, push gently with one foot, and then the other. If you lift your foot, step, and put it down, you're just going to be walking with wheels, and it won't be effective." She still looked baffled, so he tried to fight down his amusement and speak more clearly. "I can tell you're frightened, and that's alright. Trying something new can cause that response. But, please don't worry. I'm here to assist you."

"Right," she said slowly. "Because I'm afraid of skating."

"I don't see any other frightening stimuli here," Izzy pointed out. A slow smile passed her face, and Izzy could have sworn that he saw some ironic amusement there, but he was at a loss to explain it. "I'm going to skate backwards and watch you, so you need to tell me if there's something behind me."

"You can skate backwards?!" Amy demanded. She began to pull herself forward, using the railing again to move.

"It's merely the opposite of going forward," he replied off-handedly. "Now, please. Stop pushing off the railing for your momentum. Generate it with your feet." Frowning with concentration, Amy shifted her left foot forward, and the right foot moved backwards simultaneously, causing her to slip and stumble. Izzy grabbed her hands and held her up, shaking his head. "Try again," he demanded, releasing her.

Amy continued to make strange, clumsy mistakes, causing Izzy to correct her, hold her up, and order her to keep trying, but after a few trips around the rink, she was skating on her own. True, her legs were trembling, she was moving slowly, and she seemed to occasionally forget how to work up some momentum, but she was learning. Izzy found himself impressed with the effort she was putting into this. Her brow was furrowed, and the very tip of her tongue stuck out from between her teeth, and each movement of her legs was made with evident care. Better still, she never snapped when he told her to do something differently. She simply nodded and did what he told her, taking directions with ease.

They had been at it for about twenty minutes when Amy looked up from her skates and smiled at him. "Hey, Izzy. I think I'm okay now. Why don't you skate a little on your own? You looked like you were having a lot of fun earlier, and I feel like I'm holding you back."

"That would be impolite," Izzy said promptly. And, although teaching her wasn't exactly exciting, her off-the-wall mistakes, such as somehow managing to smack her ankles together and pitch herself forward, were entertaining, and just a little endearing. On the other hand, the thought of skating normally was compelling.

"I won't take offense, so you're fine. Besides, it's fun to watch you. You looked more at ease than I've ever seen you when you were skating." Izzy stared at her for a moment, surprised by her ability to sense his emotional climate. Then he nodded and reversed himself so that he was skating beside her.

"Very well. If you need anything, just call me when I pass. Don't stray far from the railing." With that, he moved away from her sped off, reveling once more in the fluid power of skating, weaving his way through the other people on the rink. For a few trips around the perimeter, he thought about a particularly challenging math problem that he had encountered on a forum, relishing his ability to come up with a few new theories that had not occurred to him at his desk.

Eventually, his eyes fell on Amy's back as he passed from behind her, and math slipped out of his head entirely. She was getting braver, making longer strides with her legs, and her dress (and honestly, why _was _she wearing a dress to a roller skating rink?) twirled attractively about her hips. And that's when it really struck him: drunk or no, Mimi had been entirely correct about Amy's body. She was voluptuous, an endless serious of pleasing, sensual curves. And her hips… They were twirly, playful, and had a natural, unaffected sashay that had him blinking and turning his neck as he passed, so that he could keep looking. Then he finally noticed her chest, and that had him forcing his face away from her.

_I'm ogling her, _he realized with horror. _My mother would kill me_. He tried desperately to rationalize or banish his fascination with her form. He tried to convince himself that some people would find her fat -you couldn't have those kinds of curves without some meat on your body, after all, and she was probably a size ten- but somehow, that thought only annoyed him. _What is wrong with me? _he demanded of himself.

For all of his short life, Izzy had been strongly aware that his sexual desires were feeble compared to those of his male peers. As far as he was concerned, the needs of the body were pale, fleeting things, and he simply had better things to do than pursue them. But he was not entirely without curiosity on the subject, and every once in a while he would encounter someone who briefly stroked his interest, and he could freely admit that the female form was a delicate, fascinating thing. He could still see Shauna's body in his mind's eye, willowy and graceful, slim and tanned, boyish and charming. And the physical sensations of intimacy were not easily forgotten. The trouble was, neither was the pain that had gone along with it, which brought him full circle to the problem of finding himself attracted to Amy.

At this point, he was roughly opposite her on the other side of the rink, and he allowed himself to look over at her again. One moment, she was looking brave and capable, skating faster than he had seen her so far. Then she gasped and dropped, plummeting for no apparent reason. Izzy's heart jumped to his throat, but her hands closed around the railing, and she hung from it, her feet sliding helplessly back and forth beneath her. Her rear was about six inches from the floor, and she wiggled it absently as she tried to pull herself back up. But she was laughing uproariously at herself, making it impossible for her to move.

It was obvious that she required assistance, so Izzy picked up the pace. Once he was near, he went around her and came to a stop in front of her. "Would you like some help?" he asked politely, extending an arm to her.

"Did you see that, Izzy?" she asked, sounding oddly ecstatic about having nearly wiped out. There was flushed color in her cheeks, and her eyes had teared up with her amusement. "It was so funny! And I was like a ninja, I caught myself and everything."

"Well done," he said dryly. "Although I'm fairly certain that a ninja wouldn't have fallen in the first place." She didn't seem at all embarrassed about her less-than-dignified position, and it struck him as being a little odd.

"I dunno, do ninjas roller skate?" She squished her lips together and glanced off to the side, clearly giving the matter deep and serious thought. Izzy fought down a laugh and waved his hand, trying to catch her attention.

"I'm sure I do not know. Now, are you interested in being vertical again some time this evening, or shall I leave you hanging here?" Amy grinned and freed one of her hands from the railing, slipping it into his. He pulled, and her body moved upwards, but her torso was trembling, so he put his other arm around her waist to steady her.

Two things immediately became evident. The first was that her skin was incredibly soft, and her body was cushioned all over. The second was that she smelled enchanting, like flower petals covered in a delicate, icy layer of sugar, a sweet perfume that suited her personality well. She pulled herself away from him, and he released her with more reluctance than he cared to admit.

Suddenly, the lights went from dim to almost nonexistent, and a voice over an intercom announced that it was time for anyone who wasn't a couple to leave the rink. "Aww," Amy whined, glancing at the opening in the railing. "Looks like they're kicking us out for a little while."

Izzy glanced at the queue of people slipping out and was struck with sudden inspiration, a perfectly plausible reason for her to stay beside him in the dark. "The rink is going to be mostly cleared out for a while. It's ideal for you to practice. There's really no need for us to leave. I'll simply skate next to you." _What are you doing, fool? _he asked himself, but, somehow, that pessimistic voice in his mind just wasn't as effective as it normally was.

Amy tilted her head, and for a moment, Izzy could clearly read caution in the way her brow lowered. Then, by degrees, her expression cleared, and she drummed her fingertips together and grinned. "Beating the system. Absolutely devious." But, as they approached the congested area near the opening in the railing, Amy stiffened next to him. Izzy realized that she wasn't confident enough skating to go around the crowd, thus cutting off her access to something to grab if she fell.

Izzy bent his arm at the elbow and held it out to her. "Here," he said softly. "Take my arm. I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I let you fall." Amy hesitated for a moment, but, if Izzy was reading her right, it wasn't out of reluctance. Her lips parted and her eyes widened slightly. Then, she averted her glance and smiled softly, and Izzy's gaze riveted to the gentle curve of her full lower lip.

_Charmed, _his mind whispered with shock. Well and truly, he had charmed her, and she moved her hand to his arm slowly and wistfully, like someone in a dream. Her fingers fastened around the inside of his elbow, then crawled forward, each one like a shy little creature. Then her palm was pressed against him, and he realized how small her hands were.

Izzy had no idea what to make of this. He had never felt romantically capable before, had never been cognizant of his having any significant sway over someone's emotional state. But, simply by behaving in a way that came naturally to him, he had caused a torrent of timid, pleased emotions to pass through her eyes. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was twelve years old and clueless about the opposite sex, but desperately wanting to know how to make them happy, overeager with the novelty of being interested in girls.

They passed the crowd much too quickly for his liking, and he glanced at Amy, expecting her to release him. He must have moved his arm without really meaning to, because she looked at him, her expression an odd mixture of shy and beseeching. "I feel less afraid this way," she said quietly. Then she colored and pulled away slightly, as if realizing the weight of her words too late. "Ah, I'm being silly, you don't want me clinging to you!"

"By all means, stay as you are. I'm happy to be of service." And he was. It was strange, but doing something for her was pleasing to him. The simple act of helping her keep her balance made him feel oddly capable and masculine, and, even if it hadn't, her sweet, grateful smile would have made it well worth it. Suddenly, he thought he understood why Matt had been willing to walk her home the other night.

For a while, she was silent, and Izzy noticed that her eyes were distant and unseeing. It seemed like she was thinking about something rich and strange, but then she leaned closer to him and muttered, "You smell like a man."

Izzy couldn't suppress a surprised snort of laughter. "Oh, thank heavens. You've no idea how that's been keeping me up at night." His utterly dry tone had her smiling broadly.

"It's Old Spice, isn't it?" she asked, and he nodded. "Mmm… I love that smell. I keep trying to convince Tai to go with Old Spice instead of Axe, or whatever the heck he douses himself with, but does he listen to me? No, what would I know about what scents girls like?"

The mention of Tai had Izzy's lips pressing into a thin line. "Amy… About Tai. I don't know him well, but he seems like he can be stubborn and pushy. But… His reaction to your going out with me seemed…" He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to say what he wanted to say without being insulting. "Extreme."

"Ahh…" Amy said, sighing. "Tai. Listen, Tai is… Tai. You have to understand, I grew up with him. We think of each other as siblings, and that makes him think that he has to take care of me. He used to be a lot more reasonable about it, but it's gotten kind of out of hand ever since-" She broke off suddenly, and her hand tightened like a vice around his arm. "I… I guess you could say that I… I've only ever had one boyfriend, and it was someone Tai approved of, someone he openly encouraged me to be with. But it turned out that he wasn't the person Tai thought he was, and… It didn't end well." She spoke more or less calmly, but her tone was… for want of a better term, _wrong_. There was an odd mix of despair and something he had never heard before in her voice by the time she finished. He pulled back slightly when he identified it as fear so potent that it was almost crystallizing into hatred as she spoke. Then, shock flit across her face, with her eyes widening and her pupils shrinking, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth and looked away.

It was painfully obvious that she hadn't meant to say as much as she had.

There was a strained silence, since Izzy had no clue what to say. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen someone in so much emotional pain before; after all, people had no reason to bring their problems to him, because he frankly didn't care. To make matters more uncomfortable, the pain in him seemed to rise to hers, to test it, to taste it, and to resonate with it. He could intuitively feel that she, too, had somehow been betrayed by the person that was supposed to be closest to her. Without thinking, he lifted his free hand and gently passed his fingers over hers.

Finally, Amy sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'm so sorry, Izzy. I don't know what's wrong with me, normally I never talk about it. Please, forget I said anything."

Izzy shook his head sharply, holding a hand out towards her. "No, if anyone should apologize, it's me. I didn't realize that I was probing into a sensitive issue, and I regret causing you distress." This wasn't the first time his curiosity had caused him to ask an unfortunate question, and he could feel his face settle into a grim mask as he considered that it was unlikely to be the last.

"Actually… It's kind of a relief, talking about it a little." She managed a small smile, albeit a brittle one. "You know, now that I think about it, you're the first person that I've been able to say anything about that to, other than Tai and Matt."

_Bless her_, Izzy thought, fighting not to shake his head. She was trying so hard to sound cheerful, to point out the proverbial silver lining, but her small, rapid movements indicated that she was still upset, possibly even slightly frightened. "He must have torn you up terribly," Izzy said softly, hardly aware that he was observing out loud. Part of him wanted to know the full story, but this clearly wasn't the time, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stomach it. He didn't want to imagine unpleasant things happening to her.

Amy pulled away slightly and grimaced, and then a huge shudder overtook her. "Funny you should put it that way," she muttered miserably. Izzy tilted his head, trying and failing to make sense of that remark, but unwilling to ask. However, an enormous number of alternate questions were swirling in his head, and he plucked the most innocuous of them out.

"And you're not seeing anyone now?" _Damn you! _he screamed to himself. _What are you doing, asking more questions?! Are you that much of a glutton for punishment? _But he truly couldn't help it. Always asking, always searching, always hunting for truth and understanding… That was how he lived, regardless of the impact it had on his social life.

She gave him a confused look, which was only fair, considering how he had gone straight from touching one sore nerve to potentially touching another. But some of the tension dripped out of the hand clinging to the inside of his elbow, and he realized that he had at least succeeded in shifting the subject to something less dangerous.

"No. The male sex and I, in general, aren't on good terms at the moment. Present company excluded, obviously. But… Getting back to what you said earlier… Tai has his reasons. I know he can be a pain, but I promise you, he's honestly trying to take care of me. I would consider it a favor if you didn't think badly of him over it."

"As you will," he said at once, grateful to have some way of doing something for her. After all, he had just shoved his foot so far down his mouth that it was in danger of coming out of his ass. Any potential method of saving face was welcome.

Amy gently squeezed his arm. "Have I told you that I love the way you talk? If anyone else spoke the way you did, they would sound stilted and ridiculous, but somehow it works for you."

"This is my natural mode of speech," he said simply. "And you have mentioned that you approve. You were quite intoxicated at the time, if you'll recall." The memory had him smiling, as did her praise.

"Ahhh," Amy breathed. Then her eyes flicked to his face, and something changed in her expression, although Izzy couldn't quite identify what. "And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

Izzy almost laughed, but was able to reign it in at the last second, reminding himself that she would have no way of understanding his amusement. He had practically pledged himself to a life of chastity and intellectual detachment after the Shauna debacle. "No," he said, somewhat tightly. "I'm not."

"Really?!" Amy echoed, and her eyes flew open. "A sweet, smart boy like you? I'm surprised! I mourn the foolishness of my sex."

Instinctively, Izzy scanned her tone for any signs of sarcasm, but, as far as he could tell, she was being entirely serious. There was a quick squeezing sensation in his chest, followed by a rapid spread of warmth through his body, and he realized that he was touched. "You're too kind," he murmured, glancing away, and Amy swatted him playfully in response.

They skated in silence for a few minutes, and then the lights grew in illumination, signaling the end of couple's skate. Amy glanced at him, squeezed his elbow, and raised an arched brow inquiringly. He nodded and patted her hand, and so she continued to lightly hold on to him. The two of them chatted companionably for the rest of their stay at the rink.

Some Time Later

"Izzy, you don't have to walk me to my room," Amy said as she opened the door to the fourth floor. "I can manage from here."

"You're bound and determined to make me lose face as a gentleman," Izzy said, sighing in an overblown way. "I'll have none of it." He offered her his arm once more, and she took it without thinking, delighting in the elegance of the gesture. No one had ever done that for her before, although she had taken both Tai and Matt's arm on her own in the past. Tai typically grabbed her hand and hauled her around that way, or, even worse, left her to trot at his heels like a spaniel. Matt had a peculiar way of holding on to her wrist or sleeve, as if to lead her while avoiding implying a romantic attachment. But there was just something so gentle and considerate about the way Izzy offered himself to her. Best of all, it left her in complete control. If she wanted to refuse, she could do it without being touched first, and if she changed her mind after accepting, she could release him at any time. And it was just that kind of thoughtfulness and yielding behavior that made her feel comfortable around him.

"I had a lot of fun, Izzy," she said suddenly. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. Truly." Although his tone was as brisk as usual, it did seem just a bit less detached than the norm, and Amy couldn't help but move her body closer to his in response. Izzy came to a stop, and she accidentally tugged him forward a step or two before she registered that they had arrived at her door. Color rose to her face, especially when she noticed Izzy smiling at her with amusement. Amy hastened to close her hand around the doorknob, then froze.

"Um…" she trailed. "Thanks again. If you want to do something else, let me know?" For some reason, her sentence ended in high pitched shyness. "I mean, I would like that. If it's okay with you." Izzy glanced at her hand, and heat flooded her face when she realized that she was still holding on to him. She released him, trying and failing to act nonchalant about it.

"Absolutely. Something less physical next time, perhaps." Charitably, he chose not to comment on her reluctance to let go of him, and she felt a fresh wave of admiration for the little redhead.

"Mass Effect, pizza, and soda," Amy agreed, nodding. "Much safer. Sounds like a date."

Then she realized what she had just said, saw the widening of Izzy's eyes, and went into a complete panic. She laughed in a high, tight manner that he was sure not to buy, squeaked out a final good night, and turned the doorknob, finding it mercifully unlocked. The next moment, she was gone, but her foot clanged against the door on her way into her room, causing a shooting pain to shiver up her ankle, and she gasped out a surprised obscenity. _Classy, so classy, _she thought miserably as she shut the door behind her.

Then she slunk into the room, favoring her slightly injured foot. She fought down a surprised exclamation when she saw Tai sitting on her bed, playing Halo on her Xbox. Or, at least, he had been playing; the game was paused now. "Tai!" she breathed, pressing a hand to her heaving chest. "What the heck! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

He rose and took hold of her shoulders. Amy rather wished he wouldn't, since his grip was so tight. "Are you alright?" he demanded. "I called you like five times!"

"I-what? Why?" Amy asked. Her hands went automatically to his sides, bunching up his tee shirt with worry. "Has something happened?"

"What?!" Tai echoed. "Amy! You went out with some guy we don't know! I was worried! Why wouldn't you let me come with you? Did he try to pull anything on you?" There was growling panic in his tone, and he pulled back from her and swept his eyes up and down her body, as if he expected to find visible damage.

Amy's hands fell from his shirt as if it were suddenly too hot to touch. "Oh, Tai," she sighed, tipping her head back and breathing deeply, trying to conjure up some extra patience. She batted his hands off of her shoulders and eased herself onto her bed, laying down. Tai frowned and pushed her over until there was enough room for him to lay next to her, resulting in a quick wrestling match that ended in massive failure for Amy. He crossed his arms behind his head and fixed her with a look, which she ignored pointedly. "Izzy was a perfect gentleman, and I had a great time. And you're the one who told me I should be friends with him in the first place."

"I was drunk," he said bluntly. Amy exhaled so sharply that her bangs went flying.

"Why are you in my room without Sora?" she asked suddenly. Half of her intent was to change the subject, and the rest was actual curiosity. "That's kind of weird."

Tai grunted at the ceiling. "I told her I was sick of listening to Matt play the bass, and could I hang out with her?"

"Ahhh," Amy sighed, seeing too clearly where this was going. "And then she went to hear Matt play the bass."

"And then she went to hear Matt play the bass." His repetition was bland and toneless. Amy wanted to point out that this was his punishment for acting so freakishly overprotective, but was too struck with his dejection to do it. And, despite being kind of strange and infuriating, his concern over her was sweet. There had to be some way to repay him for caring so much.

"Fire up a Legendary campaign," she said, sitting up. "Let's crush some Forerunner scum."

His answering grin had her smiling at once. "Hell, yeah! That's what I like to hear!" He tossed the pink Xbox controller (which he always refused to use) at her, picked up the white one he favored, and restarted the game, and they smote aliens together until they were too sleepy to go on.

Meanwhile, Elsewhere

Izzy knocked gently on his door, then let himself in at Joe's muffled acknowledgment. The textbooks on his desk announced that Joe had been studying, but he turned away from them as Izzy walked into the room.

"Well, how did it go?" he asked. Izzy sighed and laid down on his bed, then pressed his pillow on top of his face. "Oh… Not so good, huh?"

Although it might have been easier to lie, the concern and disappointment in his friend's voice convinced Izzy to be completely honest. "It was prodigious," he said, moving the pillow aside so that he could be understood. Although his words were positive, he spoke them in a hollow, dirge-like tone.

"Uh… So why the mourning?" Joe asked. Izzy covered his face with his palm and breathed deeply. As before, as soon as he was removed from Amy's immediate vicinity, he realized how much of a fool he was being, how much he was in danger of putting his heart in someone's hands again. He couldn't believe how rapidly he was cycling through emotions. A few minutes ago, he had been cheerful and entertained, had found the world an entirely pleasant place. Now, he felt like an idiot, and melancholy and frustration were wrapping their way around him like a grisly shawl. Wasn't he stoic just a few days ago? Just this _morning_?

"I don't want this," he breathed, and admitting it was almost a relief. "It's so much worse this time, Joe. Before? With Shauna? I was just going through the motions, because it was expected, because I was curious. I came to care for her, in my way… And I trusted her like a stupid, foolish school boy. But I never…" He put so much pressure on his forehead that his head began to ache, causing him to hiss slightly and ease off.

There was a long pause, and then Izzy faintly heard the light clicking sound of Joe adjusting his glasses. "Well… How do you feel about Amy?"

An enormous twang of pain flashed through his skull, sending faint vibrations over the entirety of his nervous system. He didn't want to say this, didn't want it to be true, but it was there, staring him in the face, impossible to deny. "She's charming. I'm thoroughly charmed."

"Charming?!" Joe echoed. He rose from his chair and stood over Izzy's reclining form, and Izzy reluctantly parted his fingers so that he could look up at him. His friend's face was tight and a little distressed. "All this angst over being _charmed_? I thought I was going to hear something a bit stronger than that."

Izzy shut his eyes and groaned quietly. "When have you ever heard me say something stronger?" he demanded.

There was another long pause.

"Exactly," Izzy muttered, rolling his body so that he faced the wall.

Joe tried to get more information, but Izzy was unable to talk about it anymore. He deflected the inquiries politely at first, and then with growing vitriol, until Joe finally sighed and left him alone. Then he prepared for bed in a despondent haze. When he was finally laying under the covers, he focused his faculties and tried to allow himself to feel those foreign emotions that Amy had stirred up in him. Although they were gentle and pleasant, they were also horrifying, because he had an inkling of what they could end up doing to him. He grit his teeth and shut his heart to them, not knowing what else to do.

**Author's Note: **Ohhh, man! This chapter is SO LONG. You're welcome, my lovelies. Now, it's my birthday (well, yesterday was), so pretty please leave me a review :D They're better for me than cake. I hope it was entertaining. I spent so much time on it, I hardly even know, I'm sick of looking at it for now XD I can only hope that I didn't go overboard on everyone's EMOTIONS. Geez guys, stop being all EMOTIONAL. These crazy kids! Ah, to be young and emotionally vulnerable…?


	9. Agreements, Gossip, and Destruction

**Author's Note: **Today I present to you a few Saturday scenes (don't these kids ever have class? Hmm…). The language gets strong in this chapter, so please be warned.

A chirping alarm woke Matt on Saturday morning. A growl of protest floated over from Tai's end of the room, and Matt sat up blearily and groped around for his cell phone, which was on the floor somewhere by the side of the bed. By the time he found it and turned off the noise, the growling had progressed to snarling.

Matt walked over to Tai and smushed his pillow into his face. "And you wonder why you don't have a girlfriend, dumbass."

"Neither d'you," Tai muttered sleepily. Or, at least, that's what Matt thought he said. It was hard to tell, seeing as how he was talking through a layer of fabric and feathers.

"But I don't complain about it nonstop," Matt said easily. "And, actually, not having a girlfriend is working out pretty well for me right now."

Tai moved the pillow aside and gave him a look of mixed skepticism and grumpiness, and Matt wished he had a camera in hand, because it was hilarious. "No one likes not having a girlfriend."

Matt didn't answer at once, taking the time to stretch his body out instead, limb by limb. "Ahhh," he breathed when he was finished. "But they do when they meet a girl like Sora, and find her single."

Tai's eyes widened, and he hauled his body into a sitting position with more speed than Matt would have thought possible. "_What?!_" he cried, lifting his hands to his incredible bush of hair.

"What what?" Matt echoed, stepping back, surprised at his friend's vehemence.

"You like Sora?!" Tai demanded. Something territorial and fierce passed over his friend's face, and a feeling of dread settled into Matt's stomach. He recognized the flash of anger going through Tai's eyes, knew what it meant when the gold flecks of his iris hardened and stood out against the backdrop of brown. The leash on his temper was strained to the breaking point, and it would take just a word or a twitch to snap it.

Although he hated to admit it, Tai in a rage was a definite threat. Matt was certainly not a pushover, but Tai was faster, stronger, more lithe. There was no question of who would win if they ever came to blows. All Matt wanted to do was walk right out of the dorm room, but, as with a wild predator, fleeing could arouse Tai's more dangerous instincts.

The best thing to do was ignore it and act as normally as he could. "Hell, yes. Annnnd you like her too, huh. Fantastic." His tone was heavy with sarcasm and unhappiness by the time he finished. Without thinking, he went to the corner of the room and closed his hand around his bass, then lifted it and sat on his bed. He began to play it in a daze.

Matt knew he had made a mistake the moment the growling sound started up again. "Put that damned thing down," Tai snarled. "This is how it always go. You play some notes on a guitar-"

"Bass guitar," Matt corrected, hoping to break up Tai's train of thought, but he ignored him.

"-and all of the girls fall at your feet. Do you know how many girls I liked ended up in your pack of groupies before I could even tell them that I liked them? I thought this was going to end now that your band broke up." Tai's chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his hands were bunched up in his sheets so hard that white splotches were appearing under his tan.

"Breathe, Tai," Matt said softly. "You're reacting without thinking. Keep at it, and you'll say something you'll regret." Tai blinked, and for a moment, his upper lip drew back, and Matt feared that he would disregard his advice and fall into a full blown state of aggression. Then Tai's brown eyes flicked to his, and he must have seen the concern there, because he sighed and took a deep breath. His body relaxed by degrees. A tan, calloused hand rose to his face, and he slumped over and began to massage his temple.

"Hell. I'm sorry, Matt. What did I say? I kind of lost it for a second there, I don't even know."

"Nothing that we didn't both already know," Matt said, sighing. The danger had passed, and relief slipped over him, as cool and refreshing as a spring rain.

He observed Tai's dejected posture and frowned. Although he showed a remarkable lack of tact in pointing it out so directly, his friend had a point. Matt knew that his band had drawn a large amount female attention in their school- well, in the few surrounding counties, really- and that this had caused a decline in the romantic success of other boys. And sometimes, that attention felt very, very good. But, more often than not, it had been annoying, and he had certainly never meant to frustrate Tai's love life. He could see why Tai was annoyed, but he wished he wouldn't be so bitter about it.

"Listen," he said quietly, "I do want you to know, I never intentionally tried to impress anyone that you seemed interested in. I never intentionally tried to impress _anyone_. I just enjoy music. That's all. I mean, I'm the _bassist_. No one is supposed to notice the bassist." He didn't point out that he was also the head vocalist. No need to dig his own grave.

A forced smile spread over Tai's face. "I guess they do when it's you." Matt nodded slowly, knowing that the compliment was Tai's way of apologizing. He forced himself to let go of the nugget of resentment and anger that Tai's outburst had created. One did not have Tai as a best friend without developing a strong capacity for forgiveness and patience.

There was a long pause, and the only sound was the meandering of Matt's fingers over his instrument's strings. Finally, Tai shifted, draping his legs over the side of the bed so he could face Matt, and the bassist watched him carefully, wondering what his next move would be.

"So, uh… You like Sora. I like Sora. How do we handle this?"

"Like adults." There was a strong sense of finality in Matt's voice; a firm hand was often required with Tai, and he was convinced that this was the way to go. "She isn't a prize in a claw machine. We aren't going to fight over her like kids."

"I remember that," Tai said suddenly, and Matt blinked at tipped his head.

"Remember what?" he asked, raising a brow. Tai gave him a look of faint surprise.

"You know. We were little kids, probably eight or so, and Amy wanted the stuffed dolphin from the claw machine in the mall. The two of us were already mad at each other, I have no idea why, and we started arguing over who would win it for her. It got so ridiculous that Amy started crying and ran away without our noticing, and then we had to team up to find her."

Matt blinked and stared into space for a moment. "Hn. Right. And she never did tell on us, even though we were supposed to be in charge of her." Their eyes locked, but neither of them said what they were thinking, even though Matt could practically hear it bouncing around in Tai's head.

Back then, all those years ago, the one who had found Amy curled up behind the giant stuffed giraffe in the kid section of the book store had been Matt.

"So," Tai said uncomfortably, breaking the silence. "Uh, how do we go about this as adults?"

"Simple. First, we agree not to try and sabotage each other. I suggest we each move at a natural pace; no good will come out of trying to speed things along, just because we know that we have a rival. And whoever she chooses- and, of course, she may not want either of us- the other will accept gracefully, and we'll still be friends." Matt stood, sat his bass down on his bed, and extended his hand to Tai. Tai hesitated, then lifted his hand, and Matt stared at it. Something about Tai's uncomfortable expression warned him that his friend may not be completely on board with this. "Tai. I'm serious about this. I have no intention of losing my best friend over a girl, even one like Sora. If you shake, it means you can't go back on the terms. Can you handle that?"

Tai snorted, and temper began to show in his flashing eyes. Matt lifted a brow imperiously, trying to tell him that he was already failing to reign himself in, and Tai frowned. "Look, I'll do my best," he began, cracking his neck in what was probably an attempt to relieve his discomfort, "but I think we should add that the loser can have some time to sulk. I mean, I know I would need it. Not that I'm going to lose," he added hastily.

Matt sighed slowly. Sulking was exactly the kind of behavior he was hoping to avoid here, especially since a sulking Tai was a living nightmare. But he couldn't force this without taking Tai's feelings into account, so he relented. "Fine. We'll add an optional sulking period of no longer than a month."

"Then you have a deal," Tai said, grasping his hand with his signature strength and confidence. "Get ready to sulk, pretty boy. At least it will help you write some new, weepy love songs."

"Ha!" Matt snorted, flicking his hair into place with his free hand. "The only thing I'll be writing is the aria of your tragic downfall." Although his words were playful, he was very grateful to see Tai return to his typical, cheerfully cocky self.

They shared fierce smiles, then shook on it. Once their hands separated, Matt nodded and began to speak, his tone oddly business-like.

"Right. I plan to ask her to dinner tonight. You have the rest of the weekend to make your move. I'm going to take a shower."

"Whoa. Are we always going to give each other updates? Because I'm not sure if I can stomach that," Tai muttered. An evil grin spread across Matt's face, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Oh, I won't always be this nice," he said, making his way to his closet. "A gentleman is always polite about his opening move. After that, you're on your own, _boy_."

Tai made a sound that was half laugh and half snarl, and then they both glanced at each other, shared looks of overblown challenge, and broke into hysterics.

Later that Day

Sora looked up from her sketch book, where she was working on a design for a dress, and swiveled her desk chair so that she was facing Amy. Her roommate was bent over an enormous text book, glancing between its glossy pages and the notes on the screen of her netbook. Sora wanted to talk to her, but she didn't want to distract her. Her eyes moved to her collection of wind chimes hanging from the pipes in the ceiling, and she sighed.

Unfortunately, Amy was not sensitive to such signals, and so Sora was left to get her attention on her own. "Umm, Amy?" she said hesitantly. Amy jumped slightly in her seat, and the pencil that she had been uselessly twiddling in her fingers flew to the floor.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, bending in her seat to retrieve the pencil. But she moved her upper body too far out of the chair, causing her to fall, head first, towards the hard, tile floor. Sora gasped and threw herself out of her seat, but Amy caught herself with her palms, leaving her hands and feet on the floor and her rear straight upwards, half-pressed against her seat. Then she began to laugh, and her body trembled with the force of it.

"Ahahaha-help!-hahaha!" she cried, and Sora hastened to come to her and put her hands on her shoulders. She lifted them, helping Amy ease herself back into a proper sitting position. "Whew!" Amy exclaimed once she was safely in her chair again. "That was a close one! Thanks for the help, I was seriously losing my balance."

"Um, no problem." At this point, Sora wasn't sure if Amy had any balance to lose in the first place, but she kept that thought to herself. "I'm sorry I startled you." And she was. Sora tried to be accommodating of Amy's… uniqueness, but it seemed truly impossible to avoid the occasional accident with her.

"Oh, please," Amy said, flapping a hand dismissively. "If I got upset every time I startled or almost fell, I would be miserable. Anyway, what's up?" Sora smiled, finding Amy's nonplussed outlook oddly refreshing, but her lips straightened back out when she remembered what she wanted to talk about.

"Your date with Izzy went well, right?"

"It wasn't a date," Amy said offhandedly. She began to swivel her chair around in slow circles, then came to a sudden halt and colored slightly. Sora was getting used to that; her roommate had a habit of doing slightly strange things, then realizing it and stopping midway.

Sora sighed and threaded her fingers together. Amy's words weren't making her feel any better. She had hoped to hear that it had gone swimmingly, that she was crazy for the little redhead. This was partially because she honestly wished for everyone to be happy, but, although it shamed her slightly to admit it, that was not her only motive. "You, uh, you said you weren't interested in anyone now?"

Amy blinked and began to run her fingers through her long, dark brown hair. "I… I can't figure out where this is going?" she said, making it sound like a question. Sora smiled ruefully and averted her eyes, staring at her neutral-colored area rug.

"I'm sorry. It's just, I was talking to Matt last night, and… He's very… I mean…" Sora tried to get some sensible words out, but she ended up babbling, and Amy continued to stare at her like a confused puppy. Then, suddenly, Amy's eyes widened, and her mouth opened into an 'o' shape.

"I once was blind, but now I see!" she cried, laughing. "Yes, Matt is very _something _all right. And also very single!" She smiled and winked, then pressed her hands together, looking deeply pleased about whatever it was that she had come to see. And Sora felt herself coloring, mostly because she was fairly sure that Amy was seeing clearly.

Sora couldn't help it. She was worried that she was being as foolish as the high school girls who used to sigh and scream over Matt and his band mates, and so she had started out determined to see him as any other boy, and not the incredibly handsome, incredibly talented, incredibly smooth-voiced musician that he was. And yet, only a little more than a week had passed since Amy shoved her into Matt's room, and she was already crushing on him. _So weak_, Sora thought sadly, fighting not to shake her head.

It really couldn't be helped. Matt had a great sense of humor, he was a gentleman, and he had just the right amount of confidence to seem strong and capable while only occasionally touching on arrogance. In fact, there were only two problems, as far as Sora could tell. The first was that she couldn't figure out what his faults were.

The second was that he seemed awfully fond of Amy.

"Have… Have you and Matt ever dated?" she asked quietly. "I know it's none of my business…" This was something Sora had worried about ever since she identified Amy as the girl who had provided female vocals whenever the Teenage Wolves needed them. That worry strengthened when Matt occasionally told fond stories about her, and when she discovered that he referred to her as 'gorgeous' rather than by name. And if Amy was the type he was into, then she was in trouble. Their bodies were nothing alike. Amy was tall, curvy, and medium weight. She was slim, petite, and athletic.

Sora had no problem with the thought of Matt having had relationships in the past, but if he had feelings for someone else now, she wanted to know before she lost any pieces of her heart to him.

Amy stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Then she pulled a grossed out face, drawing her lips back and sticking her tongue out. "Uggghhh," she groaned, standing up and going automatically for her acoustic guitar. She sat on the end of the bed and began to strum it, something she seemed to do when in need of emotional balance. "That's like asking me if I've dated _Tai_." Then the corners of her mouth jerked upwards, and she began to laugh. The sound of the guitar took on a distinctively playful air. "Nope. Nooot interested. He's like my brother. Although, now that I think of it, he kissed me once."

The layer of comfort that Sora had gained from Amy's initial reaction fell away. "Oh?" she managed weakly, and Amy nodded.

"Yeah. It was in eighth grade, just before we graduated middle school. We were at a stupid lock in at the school gym for the graduating class. Mandatory attendance. The obligatory game of truth or dare started, and one of the popular girls- you know, the stereotypical type- dared Matt to kiss the girl he liked best in the room. You should have seen their faces when he kissed me! I wasn't even playing, I was reading in the corner behind them."

Amy broke off suddenly, and her face twitched, as if she were in pain. "Oh, thank the stars. I hadn't really thought about it before now. My first kiss was Matt, not-" She frowned, shook her head, and returned her attention to her guitar. Her strumming had suddenly turned into an ugly twanging, and she furrowed her brow as she tried to correct it. Sora shook her head sympathetically. It would appear that Amy's first romantic relationship hadn't ended well.

Once it sounded like music again, she tilted her head back up. "But it wasn't anything, Sora. It was just a peck on the lips. Just affection, just a way to get the best of those mean-spirited girls." She grinned hugely. "At the time, I stared at him, put my palm on his forehead, pushed him away, and said I was trying to read over here, and did he mind? He laughed so hard at the look on the one girl's face!" The memory had her smiling hugely, and Sora couldn't help but smile back. The story, while brimming with the immaturity sometimes seen in children at that age, was innocuous enough to ease her mind.

But she was a little surprised by how far back their relationship seemed to reach. "So… You've known him a long time?" she asked. Amy nodded, looking a little distracted.

"Uh, yeah, pretty much forever. We went to the same elementary school, starting with kindergarten. He's always been Tai's best friend, and I've always been trotting at Tai's heels. Although, initially, I think Matt found me pretty annoying." Sora nodded politely, expecting more information, but none was forthcoming. Amy went right back to her music, nodding her head in time with the guitar chords, forcing Sora to prod the conversation back into motion. She had to fight back the instinct to gently scold her for her lack of attention to the person she was talking to, and that thought had her smiling and thinking of her mother, who always told her, with affection, that she had been born with a mother's heart. But they weren't close enough for that sort of thing, so Sora tried to think of a way to get the conversation going again.

"I notice he doesn't call you by name." At this point, Sora was starting to wonder if her barrage of questions was impolite or annoying, but Amy seemed to take everything in stride. She lifted her head and tilted it to the side, grinning softly.

"Oh, you mean the 'gorgeous' thing. Here's the thing with that. I had a really, really awkward phase in late elementary school to early middle school. I mean it. Glasses, braces, pudgy. Plus, for some reason, I was the first kid in my grade to start growing, and I was a head taller than everyone else, even the boys, until the last year of middle school. The works, Sora, it was awful. The girls started to pick on me, you know how mean girls can be at that age. But, of course, Matt was the most desired boy of our year, and he already had all the girls sighing. He happened to overhear me being picked on, I don't even remember exactly what they were giving me grief about, but he just walked up to us and said, 'Hey, gorgeous, we still on for this weekend?' He was talking about our going to watch Tai's soccer match, but they didn't know that, and, let me tell you, he can turn on the charm when he needs it." She grinned and shrugged. "No one ever picked on me again, and the nickname stuck." Finally, she stopped playing the guitar, allowing it to hang from the strap.

"That… That's so sweet," Sora said softly. Her pointer finger began to trace an invisible pattern on her jeans. She had never met someone who would go, so naturally and easily, to a damsel's defense. "Gosh. Does he even have any faults?" she wondered, and then she colored and pulled back when she realized that she had thought out loud.

Amy made a sound that was half exhalation and half laughter, a loud _pffft! _that seemed to echo in the room. "Please!" she cried, hugging her guitar against her body. "He wouldn't be human if he didn't. Yeah, with him, one thing you have to know is that he's proud, just a little arrogant. But usually he's smart enough to keep it under control. The bigger issue is his tendency to brood. He'll shut himself away from everyone, and all of his bad feelings just build up until he pops, and it can be ugly. Also, and he's like Tai in this way, he can go a little nuts worrying about someone really important to him, like his brother or Tai and me. Anyway… I've always wished that he could find someone he trusts enough to let in. It can be really, really hard to get him to open up, no matter how close you are to him. But, as far as I know, none of his romantic relationships have gotten very far..." She trailed off wistfully and started to worry her lower lip.

Sora nodded absently, trying to absorb all of this information. She wondered if Amy had any idea how much she was revealing with her cheerful, meandering way of speaking. Somehow, Sora sensed that her roommate's thoughts were far away, even as she talked to her. "Can I ask what it is you're thinking about?" she asked, hoping that she wouldn't mind.

Amy colored, and her arms shifted around the guitar. "Ehhh. Umm. I guess I'm a little preoccupied. Thinking about last night."

"Ah," Sora said, smiling knowingly. "About your date that wasn't a date."

"Sora!" Amy cried, laughing.

"Go on," Sora cajoled, leaning towards Amy. "Gush. I can tell you want to. And lending you an ear is the least I can do, after practically interrogating you."

"I do not want to gush!" Amy's voice went high and tight, but there was a sound of lilting, sweeping delight in her tone. "Jove's thunder! I'm sorry. Maybe I do? I dunno. He was so… But I just had a really good time. Nothing to read into or anything."

"Mm-hmm," Sora said, lifting a brow and smiling. She made herself comfortable and leaned back in her chair, waiting for Amy to spill, but a knock on the door had her rising. She pressed an eye to the peephole, then colored and turned towards Amy.

"It's Matt!" she hissed. Amy blinked and looked at the digital display of her clock.

"Maybe he wants to go to lunch?" she suggested. Sora nodded and opened the door, hoping that she didn't look as nervous as she suddenly felt.

And there he stood, with those piercing blue eyes focusing immediately on hers, almost forcing her to step back under their intensity. She cleared her throat, or, at least, she tried to. A faint squeaking sound went through the room, and she colored horribly when she realized she was making it. "Hello," she managed at last, and Matt produced that easy grin.

"Hey." She stepped back, allowing him inside, and shut the door behind him. "Oh, gorgeous. Tai wanted me to send you down. I think he needs some help on his homework."

"He's actually doing homework?" Amy asked, sounding slightly shocked. Sora grinned, thinking that she could see where Tai might take something of a lax approach to his education. Matt shrugged, and Amy rose and made her way to the door.

"You bringing the guitar with you?" he asked lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"Love me, love my guitar," Amy replied, lifting her nose in mock vanity. Matt caught Sora's eye and grinned, and they laughed together. Amy _hmphed_ and swished her hips playfully as she left the room.

Once she was gone, Matt turned to her and slid his hands into his pocket. "You getting along with her okay? I know she's a little out there sometimes, but…"

"She's lovely," Sora said honestly. She couldn't help but like Amy. Something about her bumbling but well-meaning nature tugged at her heart strings. "I have to say, though, I was a little surprised when I came in the room last night and heard her playing video games with Tai."

Matt blinked, then drew back his upper body and laughed. "Ahh, let me guess. She was cussing like a sailor."

Sora crossed her arms and grinned. "Well, assuming that sailors have huge vocabularies and throw in references to mythology and literature mid rant, then, yes. It was actually kind of impressive." Sora was very grateful to find herself speaking playfully with Matt. It helped her fight away the worst of her nerves, and she found herself growing more confident.

"The worst is when we play Mario Kart," he said, leaning against the wall. And, just like that, he looked like a picture out of a magazine, trendy and handsome in black jeans and a fitted black tee shirt. "I think the three of us could actually set the air on fire with our language."

"Mario Kart?" Sora echoed, forcing herself to stop staring at him. "I thought that was an innocent game. Some of the kids I babysat when I was in high school played it."

"There may not be anything mature about the gameplay, but, let me tell you, something just explodes in your brain when you've been in first the whole race and someone hits you with a blue shell right before the finish line, and then you're lucky to come in fifth." He shook his head, and the spark of amusement in his eyes had Sora stepping closer. He must have noticed, because his smile grew slightly, became just a bit more assured.

"Umm… Was there something you needed?" Sora asked, glancing at her hands. A small flicker of frustration went through her when she realized that she was wringing them.

Matt froze for a second, and his smile faltered. Suddenly, his blue eyes were scanning the room, and his hands went to his pockets. "Well," he said at last, speaking slowly and with care. His voice was just a little higher in pitch than it normally was. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me tonight. I don't have a car, but there are some decent places within walking distance."

"_Me?_" Sora squeaked. Heat flooded her face, and she fought the urge to hide it with her hands.

Matt stared at her for a moment, then began to grin like an idiot. He quickly rearranged his face with a winning smile, and somehow his display of slight arrogance helped Sora to overcome her shock and embarrassment.

"Hmm," she said, tilting her head in consideration. Matt's smile faltered a little, and her ability to gently put him in his place thrilled her. She let him sweat for a few seconds, because his ego, while well deserved, could clearly benefit from some insecurity.

"That sounds nice," Sora said at last, blessing her ability to keep her voice level. For a moment, a look of pure, boyish excitement passed the bassist's face, and Sora took another step closer to him in order to see it better. Then he cleared his throat, and his expression fell into that typical look of distant self-assurance.

"Great," he said. "Do you mind if I have a seat? We can choose where we'd like to go."

"Be my guest." Sora dragged Amy's desk chair over to her desk, and she and Matt crowded around her laptop, looking for a good place to go. Sora mostly nodded as he spoke, unwilling to interrupt the sound of his low, rhythmic voice so close to her ear, wondering all the while if this was actually happening.

Meanwhile

A knock on the door had Tai glancing away from his laptop. He stood and opened it, then blinked down at Amy, who was bouncing in his doorway. Her guitar moved up and down with her body as she swayed.

"Hi?" he said, tilting his head. "What's with the guitar?"

"Never mind the guitar," Amy said, rolling her eyes. She walked passed him, kissing his cheek as she went. He pawed her away from him half-heartedly, but she just grinned and made herself at home on his bed. She bent over the instrument and started playing. "Matt sent me down. He said you needed homework help. Are you working on an essay for your English composition class?"

Tai frowned. "The hell is he talking about? I'm not doing homework." He sat down in his desk chair and frowned at the guitar. He was so damn sick of the damned things.

Amy stopped playing, stilling the strings with a quick, affectionate pat of her hand, then grinned hugely at him. "Matt!" she cried, speaking as if he were in the room. "You're such a smooth operator, you jerk! He totally just lied to get me out of my room."

Tai's hands closed automatically around the edge of his desk. _Damn him_! he thought savagely. _How did he get all of these skills?! _Then he remembered that, unlike him, Matt had spent high school practically surrounded by girls, and had doubtlessly picked up on some techniques, even if he only dated one or two girls with anything coming close to seriousness. In contrast, the skills he had picked up were only useful on a soccer field. Tai remembered his failed attempt to be alone with Sora last night, and he cursed quietly. Then he twitched, fearing that Amy had heard, but he turned to face her and saw that her eyes were unfocused, which meant her thoughts were far away.

Tai sighed and drummed his fingers against his desk. He needed to be smarter about this. Matt had a definite edge on him, because Sora liked his music. But he was good at sports, and he knew from her poster collection that she enjoyed them, too. That was part of what made her so attractive. A glance at her toned legs was enough to convince him that she played sports, so he hoped that he had finally found a girl who wouldn't be offended by his tendency to spend half of his life on a field. A glance at the rest of her had him sweating slightly. She was athletic and slim, but her body was still distinctively feminine, and her face was beautiful and just a touch exotic. Plus, her obvious maturity might have a soothing effect on his recklessness, which he was a big enough man to own up to. Barely.

"Didn't you mention that Sora hinted that she wanted someone to play tennis with?" Tai asked suddenly. Amy hummed dreamily in acknowledgment, so he grunted, waved a hand in front of her face to catch her attention, and repeated himself.

She smiled shakily and averted her eyes. "Yes. I'm pretty sure she wants me to play with her, but…" she trailed off quietly, not bothering to finish her own thought. Normally Tai would have told her to be more social, but it turned out that this bit of reclusiveness was working out in his favor. He grinned without meaning to, and Amy frowned in response. "What's with that look?" she asked. "And what do you want with Sora, anyway?"

Tai raised an eyebrow, and he could feel his smile twist into a hungry, shark-like grin, but he couldn't seem to help himself. Amy gasped and started smacking him with an open palm, something that made a satisfying noise but didn't actually hurt him, one of her random tricks from drama club in high school.

"Eww, Tai! Don't be like that!" she cried, and her swatting doubled in severity. "Geez, stupid boys! And, anyway, she likes Matt, so don't get any ideas."

The smile fled from his face as panic and anger burst through his chest. "Did she say that?!" he demanded, wheeling his chair so close to her that their knees collided.

"Eh?" Amy muttered, clearly confused by his sudden change in attitude. "Well, no, those words weren't exactly said, but it was implied."

Tai sighed slowly and eased back in his chair, allowing his worries to drip away. Amy's situational awareness was downright pathetic, which was how she always ended up walking into things and getting lost. She had probably just misunderstood something, that was all. No need to get worked up.

Amy began to pick at the strings of her guitar a little nervously, and Tai's eyes fell on the instrument in her hands. An idea popped into his bushy head. "Amy," he said sharply. She twitched and fixed her eyes on his face. "Could you teach me to play guitar?"

She snorted and tilted her head. "Eh? Tai, I've offered to teach you a thousand times. Why the sudden interest?"

"Just let me see it," Tai snapped, and she sighed and lifted the guitar strap off of her body. She handed the instrument over to him carefully, and he pressed it against his body and backed his chair away from her, giving himself some room.

"You should put the strap on," she said, and there were definite signs of anxiousness in her tone. Tai frowned at her and lifted an eyebrow, slightly annoyed at her distrust, and she hugged her torso and fell silent. He took a deep breath and strummed the strings, trying to imitate the easy way that Amy had of stroking them. A horrible twanging sound filled the room, and Amy pressed her palms to her mouth and giggled into them.

Tai colored slightly and set a hand on the little knobs at the end of the guitar. He knew from watching Amy and Matt that they were for tuning the strings. "This sounds terrible," he said, giving one of them a sharp twist. Amy gasped and half stood, and he could tell that she was trying to scold him, trying to tell him not to do something, and, for some reason, that pissed him off.

"Look, I'm not going to destroy it, okay!" he snarled, drowning out her words with volume. "I'm just trying to get it to sound right." Then he twisted the knob again and ran his fingers down the strings, so annoyed that he used much more force than he meant to.

There was a sudden, high-pitched twang, and the next thing he knew, a white-hot pain sang down his inner right forearm, causing him to curse and drop the guitar. It smacked against the metal frame of his bed, then fell to the tile floor, making hollow thudding sounds along the way. Panic exploded in his chest and throat as he stared at the instrument lying face-down on the floor. Although it certainly couldn't move on its own, its stillness seemed ominous and heavy.

In an instant, Tai recalled Amy's pride and happiness when she first showed him her guitar in eighth grade. He remembered her bonding with Matt over their instruments, sitting back to back with him and singing softly, giving him a voice to practice harmonizing with as they played. He saw all of those times when she ran up to him, eager to show him some new skill, bossily forcing him to hear the newest song she had learned, stroking the sides of the guitar the way one might pet a cat. And then there was the way she would dance and sway while playing (falling more than once, always landing on her ass to protect the guitar), and how she had bent over the guitar through hours of misery and consoled herself with its warm, open sound, too afraid to allow anyone or anything else near her…

And now her faithful instrument was lying on the ground like a corpse.

"Tai!" Amy screamed, and he expected her to go into hysterics and start yelling at him, which was what he deserved. But her hands closed around his wrist, pulling his right arm towards her. "You're bleeding!" Her face was white and frantic, and his eyes flashed to his arm in response. He pulled back when he saw the gore dribbling down his skin, but Amy's hold was too firm for him to go anywhere without prying her off first.

She lifted his arm. "Hold it up," she ordered, and then she straightened, climbed over the bed, and threw open both closets. Fortunately, Matt had the sense to put his first aid kit at eye level, at the very front of one of his shelves (Tai had never found his, and it was probably still somewhere in his bedroom at home). Amy grabbed it, pried it open, and dumped the contents on his bed. He watched, bemused, as she shoved her hands into a pair of latex gloves and grabbed some gauze. Then she returned to him and held a wad of it against his cut. He hissed at the amount of pressure she was applying.

"Sorry," she said, adding her other hand so that there was pressure along the entire length of the wound. "I know it's uncomfortable, but it will take a few minutes for the bleeding to stop."

"What happened?" he asked. He tried to push her hands away and take care of the wound himself, but she bared her teeth in such a good imitation of his snarl that he left her alone.

"You turned the tension up too high on one of the strings. It snapped when you strummed it, and, you know, the deeper strings are nylon wound in copper, so it tore you up pretty good." Somehow, there still wasn't any anger in her tone, and Tai was starting to get a little tense about it. It felt kind of like knowing that a bomb was going to go off, but not knowing when.

"Amy, I'm so sorry," he breathed. "I know how much that guitar means to you. Aren't you going to see if it's…" He stared at the growing red blotches on the gauze. Even that was more appealing than the thought of having broken Amy's guitar.

Amy made a clicking noise deep within her throat, sounding almost like a dolphin. Tai had no idea what that was about, but he decided that it probably had something to do with how strained she was. "Yuu-chan's not bleeding. You are. A lot. I'll look at him once you're taken care of."

"Yuu-chan? He?" _Oh, God. The guitar has a name. I killed something with a name. _He glanced at Amy's face and saw that she was blushing, even though the color had drained from her face. It made her look like a geisha. Her fingers closed around his arm with even greater persistence, and he found himself wishing that he hadn't said anything.

She cleared her throat roughly. "Ahhh, well. You remember how I was really into Japanese stuff in middle school."

"You still are. Just ask Sora." Eimi shrugged, clearly disinterested in the distinction. There was a long silence, and Tai realized with shock that he felt awkward, which was a completely foreign emotion between him and Amy. For all of his life, Amy had practically been his shadow, always a step behind him with her nose in a book. They had shared beds, drank from the same cups, gotten in trouble together, gone on the same vacations, given each other their colds, shared secrets and umbrellas and ice cream cones. This wasn't the first time he had done something to put strain on their relationship, and he had definitely destroyed some of her things in the past, but it was a matter of degree. He moved his left hand to his knee and squeezed it so hard that it was likely to bruise.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. "I'll pay for the repairs."

"It's probably fine," she said, smiling shakily. "It's you I'm worried about. You might want to go to the health center when we get the bleeding to stop." She bit her lower lip and chewed on it mercilessly. "I really hope you don't need stitches."

Tai glanced at his arm and sighed. "I've had way worse than this. You're blowing this out of proportion, like always. In fact, I think the bleeding's stopped, lemme take a look."

"Tai- No- Keep the pressure on it," Amy babbled, but he ignored her and pried her fingers off of his arm. The skin on her fingers had gone even whiter than usual, except for the pads of each digit, which were bright red with the exertion. He peeled back the gauze with much more caution than he usually used, and was relieved to see that Amy's efforts had stemmed the blood flow.

Amy grabbed his arm and removed the rest of the gauze, putting her face remarkably close to the gore. Then she tugged on his shoulder, and he stood. "We need to clean it," she said matter-of-factly, and she hauled him out of his room and into the hallway, where she proceeded to open the nearest bathroom door.

"Amy." She ignored him and put her palm on the wood, preparing to open it. "Amy! That's the men's room you're about to waltz into."

She froze and turned to him, then pulled her hand back with a speed suggesting that it had shocked her. "Oh. Well. Hm. I need to clean your wound, so I guess… Just check that no one's at the urinals?"

Tai raised an eyebrow at her, took hold of her shoulder, and edged her aside. "In case you've forgotten, I'm an athlete. We get injured a lot. I can handle it on my own."

"But-"

"Amy. Go have a look at your guitar." He opened the door and closed it in her face to emphasize his point. Then he went to the sink and washed the wound carefully, praying that it would remain closed, which it did. The cut was longer and deeper than he would have liked, and it still hurt like a bitch, but it was just a flesh wound, and it was unlikely to cause any real problems.

When he was finished, he returned to his room and found Amy sorting through the various bandages in the kit. Apparently, she had disposed of the bloody gloves in the hallway trashcan, and he was grateful for her consideration. He didn't particularly want them in the waste bin by his desk.

To his surprise, she still hadn't flipped the guitar over, and he was about to comment on that when she handed him a tube of disinfectant. Sighing, he opened the tube, squeezed some of the whitish goo out, and rubbed it down the length of the cut, grimacing slightly at the stinging sensation.

"Let me see it," Amy commanded. Tai held his arm out for her inspection, and her expression tightened at the sight of the wound. "I guess it doesn't look too bad, but I bet it hurts. Also, none of these bandages are long enough."

"I'll figure something out." Amy started chewing her lip again, and she set the bandages down and started to fidget. Her eyes danced between the guitar and seemingly random points around the room, and Tai finally understood. "You're afraid to look, aren't you."

For a fraction of a second, her eyes locked on his, and he could see moisture building up there. But her glance drifted away, and she stood and gingerly picked the instrument up, as if to prove him wrong. Her diaphragm expanded as she breathed deeply, and then she turned the guitar towards her and began to inspect it. Tai angled himself so that he could see it, but made an effort not to crowd her.

He grimaced when he saw the gouge on the front of the wood. Amy ran her fingers over the strings delicately, and it sounded hellish, even worse than when he had tried to play it. "Saddle's out of alignment," she said, sighing. "But it should be an easy fix for a luthier."

"What about the gouge?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. Amy managed a weak smile.

"It doesn't look like the soundboard has been compromised. I think the damage is just cosmetic. Yuu-chan's going to be okay." She patted the guitar fondly, then sat it down on his bed. Tai collapsed beside it, relieved but troubled. Amy had kept her guitar lovingly pristine, free from all dings and wear, for five years, and he messed it up in less than five minutes.

Somehow, that one thought said a lot about the two of them.

"I don't suppose the nearest lu… Luver? Is within walking distance."

"Luthier," Amy corrected, "and almost certainly not. I wonder how I can get to one…" She frowned, tilted her head, and stared off into space, and he was reminded sharply of Belle from _The Beauty and the Beast_, a movie that he had been made to endure countless times while spending time at her house as a child.

He shook his head to clear the image away. "Have Izzy drive you." Amy's eyes narrowed immediately, and they snapped into sudden focus on his face.

"Oh, so now it's okay to go somewhere with Izzy, huh?" she said, crossing her arms and looming over him.

"Well, obviously, I'll be going," Tai said, blinking. "Since I'm paying." Right, like he was going to give _that_ the okay without a fight. Although the tiny, often-ignored voice of reason in his mind was reminding him that he was fairly sure that Izzy was a decent, though socially awkward guy, Tai had a duty to protect her, and, these days, his policy was in definite favor of being safe rather than sorry.

Amy produced a long, suffering sigh that started in a high pitch and spiraled gracefully down to a lower one. "Tai. He's not a chauffeur. Why should he agree to drive me to a guitar repair place?"

"Well, I dunno, just… Bat your eyes at him or something. Maybe he'll say yes, I kind of doubt he gets many girls talking to him, so..." He lifted his arms and shrugged up at her.

"_Tai!_" Amy cried, and her voice, normally so pleasant, sharpened to a razor edge, sounding like the cry of a bird of prey. Tai felt his jaw lowering as she whirled away from him and started to pace frantically, emphasizing her words with rapid movements of her arms. "Izzy is one of the sweetest guys I've ever spent time with, and any girl would be lucky to have him, and I am _not_ going to flirt with him just to get a favor, and… And… Ugh! Where are your _principles_?!"

"Wait, why are you mad _now_?" Tai demanded, lifting his upper body with his elbows. "You should be mad about the guitar, not about this."

"That was an accident, Tai. I easily love you enough to forgive you for an accident. But you don't get a pass for saying idiotic things." She surged over to his bed, grabbed her guitar, and moved towards the door of his room. Tai threw himself to his feet, trying to get between her and the door.

"Amy… You're seriously pissed about this!" Amy very, very rarely got mad. It was fairly easy to annoy or ruffle her, but true anger? That was like Halley's freaking comet. She looked like a spitting cat, and it would have been amazingly funny if it weren't because of him.

She paused and blinked. "Huh. Is that what this is?" she asked, almost to herself. Her hand passed over her stomach, as if to indicate that she felt something strange there.

"Okay," Tai said, holding his hands out. "Okay. I guess I was wrong. Sorry. Just… Are we good?"

Amy took a deep breath and sighed. "Well, the poor quality of your apology non-withstanding… We're always good, Tai. Just… Don't insult Izzy, okay? I mean, I know you didn't really mean it, but…" Her anger seemed to seep out of her body before his eyes, and Tai was grateful that it had fled as suddenly as it had come.

"I'll try not to. I mean, guys always rib on each other, you know? I'm not serious. Anyway, let me know when you want to find a repair place, and I'll figure out some way to get us there, even if we have to take a cab, okay?"

There was a long pause, and Amy balanced the guitar against the wall with care and walked right up to him. "Hug?" she breathed, and Tai grinned ruefully. Amy didn't like to be touched in general, but she craved contact from the few people she really loved, and he knew her well enough to know that she was trying to communicate that she had no bad feelings over this whole mess. Sometimes her desire to be physically close was a little annoying, but, in all honestly, he usually kind of liked it. There was something really awesome about being hugged by a girl who loved you, even if it was entirely platonic. They were just so sweet and gentle, or, at least, his mother, his sister, and his cousin were. Usually.

He opened his arms, and she hopped into him, causing him to sway backwards. She nuzzled him, and he could feel her breathing in his scent. "Please take care of your arm," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah." He patted her back absently, feeling the familiar silken strands of her hair. His mouth twitched into a grin when he remembered her tendency to close the car door on it.

"And, also? FYI? Sora was looking for a tennis partner last Sunday morning. Shall I recommend you if she needs one tomorrow?" He could feel her cheek straining against his shoulder with the force of her smile. He fought to keep his voice steady.

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Alright. Then I'm going to get back to my studying. And it wouldn't kill you to do some homework, you know." She pulled away from him and gave him a look, and he deflected it with a cocky grin. She sighed dramatically, picked up her guitar, and was gone.

_I have got to figure out a way to stop fucking things up_, Tai thought as he stared at the closed door.

**Author's Note: **Gosh darn it Amy, stop sneaking into all of my scenes.

Whelp, next time, please look forward to some Mimi POV, for the first time ever! Also, I hope you guys are buying my portrayals of Sora and Matt, and of their relationship. I can openly admit that I'm not too sure how I feel about how I'm handling those things. Also, I've always seen Tai as being aggressive and totally prone to messing stuff up, and I hope you guys don't think I portray him as being too harsh. We'll definitely be seeing more positive aspects of him, as well… And probably also even worse ones -_- I'm not sure if it's clear or not, but Tai is actually my second favorite Digimon character (Izzy wins it for me, obviously). I love that guy, please don't think I hate on him because I write him so aggressively and screw-uppy.

I'm not sure how clear this is, but I am actually writing this story largely by the seat of my pants. There's no real plan here. I just go with it, whooooosh! So, uh… I guess I'm open to suggestions, and, as ever, to constructive criticism, although of course I reserve the right to completely ignore what I don't find useful XD

Geez, long chapter is freaking long…!

Oh, one more thing. There may be a bit of an update delay as I give some attention to my other two stories. We'll see how it goes. Thanks for your patience. You can always feel free to message me with questions, if you really have a burning need to know how my writing progress is going XD


	10. Getting Acquainted

**Author's Note:** Hey all! I hope you don't mind, this chapter has a lot of small, short encounters, almost snippets, really. I'm trying to move the story along a little, it's going so slowly! I mean, I have four years to cover here, and we're just now closing the first week of school, whaaaaaaaat. So, this kind of thing should be pretty rare, I prefer having just 1-3 longer scenes, but I feel like I need it in this case, so I hope it's not too strange. It's definitely going to feel rushed compared to my usual pace.

Also, this chapter has language. Please be warned.

Mimi smiled to herself as she walked down the fifth floor hallway, loving the way her new skirt danced with the slightest movement of her body. Her hair was pulled into two low ponytails, the thin elastic ties touching either side of her neck just below her ears, accenting her playful cowgirl look. And, of course, her lucky pink cowboy had was in order, since she was going to talk to Joe. _Not, _she thought as she lifted her fist to knock on his door, _that I need luck_.

She tapped the door demurely, and there was a slight pause before she faintly heard, "Joe. It's for you." Then there was a sound of receding footsteps, and Mimi frowned with annoyance. What, Izzy couldn't open the door unless the visitor was for him? And what was with the monotone? But she could hear Joe coming over, so she rearranged her expression with effort so that he would find her smiling. She didn't want him to think that she was annoyed with him.

When the door opened, Joe stared at her for a long moment, his jaw going slacker by the second. "M-Mimi!" he sputtered, and she couldn't help but tip her head and smile. She had been worried that Joe's adorable way of being in awe of her would disappear without the influence of alcohol, but, if anything, he was more flustered now than he had been at the frat house.

Mimi threw her head back, extended a graceful, willowy arm, and poked him in the chest. "You're in trouble, mister! I know Amy gave you my number. Why haven't you called?!"

Joe paled, and his feet moved backwards, but the trunk of his body leaned towards her slightly, as if she were exerting a magnetic pull on him. His hands moved to the door frame, and it was clear that he needed the support. "I, I… You actually wanted me to call?"

Mimi pressed a hand to her lips, finding herself charmed by his shock. "Why else would I tell her to go ahead and give my number to you?" she scolded, swatting his chest with her palm. Joe adjusted his glasses, looking thoroughly stumped.

"I. Huh. I guess I didn't think of it that way."

"And to think that Amy kept telling me how smart you are," Mimi said, sighing dramatically. "But! I can forgive you, if you grab lunch with me." She bent her elbows and held her arms out, so that her hands and fingers draped becomingly through the air.

Joe's Adam's apple bobbed visibly as he swallowed. "Alright. Let me just put some shoes on." He turned away from the door, and Mimi wandered inside. She stepped up behind Izzy, who was sitting at his desk and doing something on the computer.

"Hi, Izzy," she chirped.

"Hello." He didn't even look away from the screen as he spoke. _Screens_, actually, and she had no idea what anyone could need two monitors for. Being so blatantly ignored was deeply insulting for her, and she felt herself beginning to bristle.

"Oh, right," Joe said, looking up from the ties of his shoes. "Do you want to get lunch with us, Iz-"

"No, thank you."

Mimi frowned at the back of his red head full on, feeling her annoyance build up beyond her limited patience. She couldn't believe that Amy had gone on a date with this guy, and she was just about to say it when Joe tapped her shoulder. "Ready," he said, smiling shakily. Mimi shot one last glare at Izzy, then turned and followed Joe out of the room. He closed the door behind them, and they had hardly taken five steps before Mimi crossed her arms and huffed.

"Is your roommate always such a jerk?" she demanded. Joe blinked, then scratched the back of his head thoughtfully.

"Huh. That was downright civil, by his standards. Usually people he's not that familiar with are lucky to get a grunt when they talk to him while he's on the computer."

There was a sudden sinking sensation in Mimi's stomach. "Oh, no!" she sighed, crossing her arms. "So he is a jerk?! But… Amy went on a date with him! I was so hopeful, she never goes anywhere with anyone…"

"He's not a jerk," Joe said gently as he pushed the elevator call button. "Actually, he's very kind. It's just buried deep." Mimi pressed her brows down and frowned, a very clear picture of open disbelief, and Joe cleared his throat in response. "Uh, _very_ deep. Okay, so, he doesn't care about appearances and social norms, and I guess you could say that he probably doesn't care about most people. But he would never hurt someone, and he's remarkably generous with his time and his skills if the other person just approaches him respectfully. And he's very devoted to the few people who do matter to him… Even if he has been kind of a pain in the neck lately." He shook his head as he finished, looking a little annoyed himself.

Mimi was silent as the doors opened and they stepped inside the elevator. On the one hand, she already found herself trusting Joe's judgment. On the other, she wasn't entirely sure that she believed there was a kind person wrapped up in all of Izzy's layers of disinterest. And that worried her, because she would _not_ be okay with standing by while one of her girls dated someone suspect.

And, of course, there was also the small matter of her pride.

"Stupid Izzy," she muttered, pressing the button for the first floor. "And to think, it took me _weeks_ to get Amy to agree to do something with me. How did she even get him to talk to her?" She found herself growing slightly jealous of Amy's ability to capture the attention of a boy who had blown her off. That was definitely the opposite of what usually happened. And what was so great about Izzy that Amy would drop her normal antisocial behavior and go out with him?

"I was surprised by that, too. Izzy has a way of pushing new people away when they approach him, but he seems to be fascinated with Amy. Actually, you know her pretty well, right? There's something I wanted to ask you about." Joe raised his brow and sighed, and Mimi leaned closer, wondering what he was going to say. "We're lab partners, and we study together in the library fairly frequently. But I tried to ask for her number so I contact her more easily with questions, and she changed the subject so fast, I got dizzy."

"Oh no, she's still doing that!" Mimi groaned, shaking her head. "Just so you know, it's not you. She's fine with talking to people, but as soon as you try to ask her to do something with you, to share contact information, or to talk about something that she thinks is too personal… She does this, like, verbal dodge ball, it's crazy. That's why I can't believe she went out with Izzy so soon, she's usually a total loner, except for around Tai and the rest of her friends."

There was a slight pause as Joe stared down at her, looking surprised. "Huh. I wonder why she's like that? And she seems so friendly…" Mimi waited for the doors to open, then stepped off of the elevator. Joe went ahead of her and opened the door leading out of the lobby for her, and she smiled approvingly. Any boy she had potential interest in had to treat her right, from the little things to the big. She deserved no less. _Every_ girl deserved no less.

Once they were outside in the heat of early September, Mimi turned her head and continued the conversation, loving the way the kiss of the sun felt on her skin. "Oh, I don't know, I'm not good at figuring that stuff out," she said offhandedly. "All I can tell you is, once she does let you in? She'll love you for life. Trouble is, she only really likes five people: Tai, Matt, their younger siblings, and me. But, if she agreed to do something with Izzy, you know, he may be on his way to being number six…" _Which, _she told herself, _is why I need to make sure he's a prince. Absolutely no less will do for one of my best girls!_

Joe sighed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his gray slacks, and Mimi spared a moment to wonder why he dressed so well on a Saturday when he wasn't even going anywhere. He was wearing a deep blue collared shirt, and she was surprised by his ability to pick out colors that suited him so well. He was much better about that than Izzy, who had been wearing an orange button down that clashed horrifically with his red hair. But, then, Amy never had much of an eye for color, either… Anyway, while Joe looked out of place on the college campus, where students were roaming about in tee shirts and flip flops, there was no denying that he looked good in what he chose to wear. For a moment, she amused herself with what he would look like wearing what the boy passing them on the sidewalk was wearing: a ratty, ancient baseball cap, a white wife beater, and red shorts, the kind boys wore when playing sports. She swallowed hard to fight down a giggle, then turned to Joe when she realized that he was talking to her.

"Can I ask how you managed to do it? Make your way on her list, I mean. I'm not sure I have any need to be one of her, ah, friends for life, but I would at least like her to be comfortable with me. We're probably going to be taking a lot of the same classes in the future, and she's very good to work with. Competent, confident, working _with_ me instead of watching me work… It's harder to find than you might think." He scratched the back of his neck, and Mimi smiled. She liked his gestures. Back in high school, the cocky, confident boys had been more her thing, but she was beginning to tire of their bravado, and of the emotional neediness that often seemed to be hiding beneath it. Joe seemed to be a very straight forward guy. That might be nice, for a change.

Mimi nodded and slipped her hands onto her hips. "Yeah, she's always been _really _serious about school. Anyway, with our friendship… She started it, if you can believe it! We went to the same high school for our freshman and sophomore years, but then I switched schools for the last two years. When I first started, well, freshman girls? They can be really mean. And it can be hard to be beautiful at that age, you know?" Mimi paused, wondering how Joe would react to her pointing out her own beauty. In the past, boys had given her looks for that, and girls had been disgusted with her. But if something was true, her way was to go ahead and say it. Beating around the bush was just a waste of time.

Joe's eyes went to her face, and, at first, he did look a touch amused, in a slightly disbelieving way, with his lips curving upwards at the corners and his eyebrows rising. But then he studied her, and shrugged almost imperceptibly. _Well, she's beautiful, all right_, his expression seemed to say, and his posture and expression fell back into ones typical of listening. And, just like that, he earned himself some more points with her.

"All the other girls treated me like I was some huge threat, or like I thought I was better than them," she continued, "and I was new to the area, so I didn't have any friends. I had never been alone like that before. One day, I was in the cafeteria, looking for a place to sit, and all of the girls were giving me these awful looks… Then I just… I dunno, I swear I felt eyes on me. I looked around and saw Amy staring at me from over a book. She always read during lunch, always sitting at the very end of the table next to Tai, not listening to a word that he and his friends were saying.

"Then she smiled at me, and… It just felt so nice, after all the nasty looks from the other girls, I guess I went over to her without thinking. Then she totally shoved Tai out of the way to make room for me, and we talked. It didn't take much longer for me to win everyone over, but I never forgot that, for two or three weeks, Amy was the only girl who was nice to me. But, and this is the weird part… As soon as I didn't really need her anymore, she stopped going out of her way for me. Suddenly, she didn't try to talk to me on her own, and she hardly seemed to be paying attention when I talked to her. I tried really hard to make friends with her, but she kept making excuses and slipping away."

Joe nodded slowly. "Now that sounds familiar. But how strange that she would pull back like that…"

"I know, right?" Mimi leaned forward, then smiled her sweetest, most innocent smile, staring Joe in the eyes the whole while. "But, you see… I don't take no for an answer." She allowed her tone to thicken slightly, knowing that the words could be interpreted in more than one way.

Joe swallowed hard, colored, and swayed slightly as he missed a step. "I… I think I may be in trouble with you," he said, laughing nervously. Mimi noticed a bead of sweat working its way down the side of his face, and she grinned. There was nothing more fun than a boy who responded well to teasing.

"You know it!" she chirped, giggling and straightening out. "Anyway, I kept bugging Amy until I found her weakness: she loves to sing, and she can have trouble resisting music. Once I found that out, I invited her to karaoke, and I begged Tai to drag her there when she showed signs of bailing. And he totally threw her over his shoulder and hauled her into the karaoke place, it was hilarious! After that, I think she kind of gave up, and the rest is history!"

Joe stared at her for a long moment. "I'm not taking her to karaoke," he said stiffly, and Mimi laughed.

"You'd better not! I'd be jealous!" Joe's faint sputtering noise had her glancing up at him, and she saw that he had colored faintly. His reactions were just so cute, and she took his hand, wanting to know what would happen if she did. Her delicate brow rose when she realized how large and warm it was.

For a moment, nothing happened, and she realized that she had shocked him. Then, he swallowed hard and shifted his fingers so that his hand wrapped around hers, engulfing it completely. Somehow, she hadn't noticed it before, but Joe was really tall, and not nearly as scrawny as she had thought he was.

"Don't worry. I'll put in a good word for you. I may be able to convince her to drop her guard a little." She smiled up at him and winked. "After all, you've convinced me to do the same."

Elsewhere

It was three o'clock on a Saturday, and Izzy was on his computer, ignoring the blue skies and strong sunlight beyond his window. There was a knock on the door, and he rose quietly, not knowing if it was someone he would want to allow in. After all, Joe and Mimi were still out, which probably meant that their lunch had given way to some other activity, and he was blissfully alone. He wasn't going to throw that away for just anyone.

He crept up to the door and pressed a dark eye to the peephole. His breath caught when he saw Amy standing on the other side, looking oddly spherical due to the distortion of light through the glass. Izzy's hand went to the doorknob, but he didn't turn it. There was a faint surge of eagerness in his chest, not entirely unlike the sensation he received from finding some intriguing new puzzle, followed by a fizzing feeling of delight, and he had no comparison for that. But beneath it was wretched, paralyzing fear and a faint hum of bitterness, of being unable to conceive that this would go well for him.

He stepped away from the door, ignored the second, more hesitant knock, and sat back down at his desk. After a moment, he heard her receding footsteps, and he leaned back in his chair and sighed. His fingers drifted to his keyboard, but he remained motionless in front of the computer for a long time.

That Night

Matt stared at the menu, having no clue exactly what it was he was looking at. Sora had suggested a sushi place, and he hadn't had the balls to tell her that he had never tried sushi before. So, now he was carefully reading descriptions of things he had never heard of, trying to wrap his head around the thought that he would soon be ingesting raw, foreign items. He only hoped that he could choke down Sora's favorite food without making a face.

He cast a sidelong glance at Sora, and was shocked to find her smiling at him. Matt couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about the way her eyes were shining seemed playful and victorious. _I have you right where I want you, _they seemed to say, and it had Matt sweating just a touch. The menu twitched in his hands, slipping down a few inches, making the entirety of his face clearly visible to her. "You… Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked at last. Then he colored when he realized that his nerves and discomfort were making him behave in a decidedly uncool manner. He cleared his throat roughly and tried to rearrange his face into a more controlled expression.

"You could have told me that you've never had sushi before," she said lightly. Matt swallowed hard, then forced an offhanded snort.

"Please. Of course I have." At this point, pure pride was controlling his tongue, making it impossible for him to admit that he had come all this way without saying anything. And he certainly didn't want her to think that he was some kind of culturally ignorant American.

"Oh?" She leaned closer to him, and her smile grew sweeter. "Then why are you looking at the menu as if it's in some alien language?"

"I just like to know all of my options," he said, shrugging easily, grateful that his glibness was returning. Sora stared at him for a moment, folded the menu, and placed it against the surface of the table.

"Matt. Would it kill you to be honest with me?" she asked, sighing. Matt fought to keep his surprise to himself. It was rare for girls to catch him playing his game. Usually, they were more than happy to hear anything he had to say, to go along with whatever he did.

He had two options here. He could continue to misdirect her, to let his pride do all the talking, or he could step back and be honest with her. There were pros and cons to both choices, and he paused for a moment while his brain sputtered over them. Continuing to lie would be easier, and could make her walk away from this with a better impression of him, if he did it well. But, then, she did seem to have a remarkable ability to sense dishonesty, and he was fairly sure that she would be disgusted with him if she continued to catch him in the act.

Then, somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered something that Amy had said to him once, so long ago that her voice sounded flutey and fairy-like, as it had when she was a child. _I think that, when you're dealing with people, and you really want to do the right thing… Whichever choice seems hardest is usually the best._

_Masochistic kid, _he thought grimly. Then he took a deep breath and sat his menu down, too. "I'm sorry. I wanted to go to the place I thought you would enjoy the most. I was worried you would choose somewhere else if I said I haven't had sushi before. And I thought you might be insulted to learn that I've never tried something you like so much." His hands began to twitch, to toy with the pages of the menu, and he forced them to go still.

Sora looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "I see. I wouldn't have been offended if you just said something, but I suppose you don't know me well enough to have known that. But, you know, you don't have to be the perfect, ultra-cool rock star with me. I get the feeling that I like Matt better, anyway." She tapped a finger against the menu, then turned to the approaching waiter, which was fortunate for Matt, because he was kind of blown away at the moment.

No one had ever said something like _that _to him before, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. On the one hand, if she knew that he put up a front already, then maybe this relationship could be the most natural and relaxed one he had ever had, assuming it ever became a relationship. But, on the other hand, that cool front really was a part of him now, and he didn't dislike it, so it would be a problem if she wanted him to drop it entirely. So how should he handle himself here?

_Just be natural, _he told himself. _Just go with it, the way Tai and Amy do. _Then he tried not to grimace. That was easier said than done. He had always admired the way Tai said whatever he felt like saying, although he also saw the advantage of knowing when to keep quiet and when to politely lie. And then there was Amy, who was always herself, throwing her good points and her bad all over the place, almost always without shame or excuses, almost to a painful extent.

"I'll have whatever she's having," he muttered to the waiter, since he had no idea what he wanted to order, anyway. He nodded and retreated, and Matt returned his attention to Sora, wondering how in the world he was going to respond to what she had said. Then she smiled warmly at him and asked him about his first week of school.

_Thank God_, he thought, exhaling slowly. _She doesn't expect me to say anything about it. _Matt placed his hands on his knees and eased into the conversation as naturally as he could, and soon he was making use of his irreverent, sarcastic sense of humor and of his easy, smooth laughter.

When the sushi came, he hardly noticed what he was eating, finding Sora's enjoyment of her food much more interesting. The way she closed her eyes as she took the first bite had him riveted, and he was suddenly grateful for the table between them. Who knew that just watching someone do something so ordinary could be arousing? He licked his lips without willing it, then shook his head and focused on his plate.

_Reign it in, there, old son! _he thought savagely. He quickly realized that this was shaping up to be one of his most enjoyably tormenting outings to date.

The Next Day

Tai opened his eyes on Sunday morning and sat up straight away, remembering that he might be playing tennis with Sora soon, assuming that Amy helped him out. He glanced out the window, expecting sunshine and singing birds, which was what he had found the day before.

Rain was falling in thick, steady sheets. He stared into the gloom and the wet for a long time, his mind going numb with shock and disappointment.

_Well, fuck me, _he thought, collapsing back onto the sheets.

**Author's Note: **

Here's what I would like to ask you readers this time around... What do you make of the pacing of the relationships here? Keep in mind that the prospective couples have only known each other for roughly 2-3 weeks. I know some college kids meet at a party and go home together, but I see our characters as being a bit... Not like that. But on the other hand, I'm not sure how quickly interest develops. Thoughts?

So, I have one more chapter almost done, and, after that, there will officially be a (hopefully short) lull in the updates for this story, as I write a chapter each for _Growing Up With You_ and _Insurgence_. There might be a week or two delay after the next update.

Here's some teasers for the next update, Dying by Inches. We'll be seeing a lot of Izzy and Amy. There will be some violence (oh noes!). And, of course, a certain girl giving a certain boy a piece of her mind!

Oh, also, judging by traffic stats and some other things, I have quite a few new readers, so... Welcome! Thanks for reading XD And an extra special thank you to those of you who review, and an even specialer thank you to those who let me prattle to them in PMs XD


	11. Dying by Inches

**Author's Note: **Okay, my chickadees. This chapter includes mild violence and not-so-mild (ie, really strong) language (stop cussing so much, Tai, stars!), so please be warned. Oh, and all I can say is that Izzy must marathon Dr. Who when he's in a bad mood, because for some reason his word choice came out slightly British today in a few places, what's that about, hmm?

There are a lot of really complicated emotions in this chapter. This definitely is not as happy-go-lucky as the story has been so far for the most part. I hope I can pull it off without overdoing it, or underdoing it, or just… Flubbing it up in general. And, of course, I hope it's still entertaining. I'm so nervous! But what can I say, except… Allons-y, and see you on the other side!

The sound of people laughing and talking in the hallway outside of Izzy's room had caused him to put on his noise canceling headphones and set his computer's music collection to shuffle. And that was why he didn't notice when Joe stood, brushed past him, and opened the door to their room. He had no warning whatsoever. One moment, he was working on math homework, mind abuzz with numbers, and the next, someone was tapping his shoulder.

He glanced up, expecting to find Joe standing there, but it was Amy. His heart strained and skipped as she smiled hesitantly down at him. It was Wednesday, and he had successfully avoided her since last Friday, but obviously Joe had betrayed him. His eyes scanned the room for his roommate, but he was already bent over his desk, cutting off visual access to his face. _Damn it, Joe! _he thought savagely, staring at his back. He removed his headphones reluctantly.

His dismay must have been evident, because she seemed to wilt before his eyes, her shoulders slumping and her eyes glancing away from him. "Hi?" she managed, and her voice reminded him of a lost child, trying to get some help from whatever adult she judged safest in a room of strangers.

"Hello." His hands automatically curled into fists, and he returned his eyes to the pages of equations and numbers on his desk. His chest was a frothing mess of jumbled emotions. Nearly a week had passed since he last spoke to her, and he had convinced himself that he was rid of the germ of mild interest in her. But his sudden uproar of mixed excitement and dread proved otherwise, and he couldn't help but resent her a little for reducing him to this pathetic, emotional state. Too late, he realized that some of that rancor had worked its way into his tone.

Amy stood entirely still for a moment, then took a hesitant step backwards, putting more space between them. "Umm…" She cleared her throat, and he could see her hands wringing in his peripheral vision. "I… I haven't seen you around lately." There was a pause, and he acknowledged her with a faint grunt as his pencil scribbled a string of numbers over the paper in front of him. But, somehow, despite his show of indifference, she continued bravely, "You know, in the cafeteria, like the other day. Haven't you been eating lunch?"

His hands froze over his work. In truth, he hadn't been eating normally lately, but his brain couldn't provide a soothing lie or explanation, so he shrugged. For a moment, she said nothing, and Izzy sensed that she still expected him to speak. He remained obstinately quiet, despite his growing desire to talk to her. A long, strained silence fell over the room, so heavy and obvious that it seemed visible, like a gray mist. Finally, she shifted her feet and spoke again. "Umm, have you eaten tonight? I thought maybe we could… You know. Mass Effect, pizza?" There was forced cheerfulness in her tone as she posed the question, and it hurt him to hear it, to know that he fallen from making her smile to forcing her to put up a front.

_Don't look at her_, he told himself forcefully. _One glance, and this game will end. One glance, and you'll break and agree to whatever she says, you'll be sitting hip to hip with her on her bed and playing some asinine video game, too charmed with her nearness to prevent yourself from wandering further down this deadly path. _He nearly groaned aloud when he realized how good doing just that sounded.

"I'm afraid I'm busy with homework," he said brusquely, tapping his paper pointedly with his pencil. There was a slight rustling from behind him, and Izzy's stomach sank as he realized that Joe might be sticking his nose in this.

"What is that, one of your math assignments?" he asked, frowning over at him. "Those never take you more than twenty minutes."

"Thank you, Joe," Izzy hissed through clenched teeth. The last thing he needed was someone else helping him look like a bastard. Then, with greater volume, he added, "This isn't all I need to attend to tonight."

"Well, that happens," Amy said. Her tone was easy and untroubled, but her voice quavered slightly. "Maybe tomorrow?" Izzy produced a noncommittal grunt, and Amy took another step backwards.

The atmosphere in the room was unbearable. Izzy was the one making it that way, and even he could hardly deal with it. The papers on his desk crinkled as his fingers flexed on them anxiously, bunching up the fibers. Finally, Amy turned around and headed for the door. "Alright. I'll just… See you later," she managed, and, frankly, Izzy was impressed. Although it was far from a suave exit, it was a much better one than he would have managed under the circumstances.

She shut the door softly behind her, and Joe waited a few moments before speaking, presumably to give her time to wander out of earshot. A second later, that pause seemed like a sweet reprieve. "Izzy!" he cried, his voice sharp with shock and disapproval. "What in the hell was _that_?!"

_Excruciating_, his mind answered, but he ignored that prompt. "That," he said, picking up his papers and tapping them into a neat stack, "was me nipping this in the proverbial bud."

"No, Izzy. _That_ was you being an utter asshole. Your mother would skin you alive if she saw that! I mean… What the hell are you even _thinking_?! That wasn't some random person you were brushing off, you know! She obviously cares about you!"

"Such language," Izzy said easily, shaking his head. But, despite the callous nonchalance in his tone, he was deeply troubled. Joe was right, and he knew it. What was worse, Joe was thoroughly disgusted, if his use of impolite language was any indicator. Izzy trusted Joe's moral compass, and had used it in the past when he found that his own seemed shaky and uncalibrated. If Joe was disturbed by his actions, then he had done something wrong. But Izzy had no choice; his options were to drive Amy away now, or… No. Driving her away was his _only_ viable option.

Joe gawked at him, then placed his forehead in his open palm. "That was like… That was like spitting in her face, only without the spit."

"Which makes it… What, exactly?" Izzy asked, raising a brow and grinning. He couldn't believe how sick he felt all of a sudden. It was fortunate that he kept forgetting to eat lately, because he would probably be kneeling in front of a toilet right now otherwise. And yet, he kept his smile frozen in place, determined to convince Joe and himself that he was fine with this, that this was normal, non-destructive behavior.

A muscle twitched in Joe's cheek. He threw himself to his feet so abruptly that his chair was pushed a good foot away, then started shoving books into his duffel bag. "Izzy. You were hurt in the past. It was bad. I know. I was there." He paused for a moment and ran his fingers through his hair, glancing about his desk as if he were too upset to remember what he wanted to pack. Then, with no warning, he lurched back into action, picking up binders and supplies. "I get that you're afraid of falling for Amy and finding yourself in a similar situation. But Shauna and Amy are two very, very different people, and-"

"I am _not _falling for Amy," Izzy spat. A potent combination of anger and fear jolted along his nerves, and he found himself babbling, unable to reign himself in. "That's a preposterous suggestion. I've never fallen for anyone. I never will. She's merely charming, and, as a man of rational thought, I would prefer not to be charmed."

"Sure. Keep talking, Izzy. The lady doth protest too much, methinks." Izzy grunted disapprovingly, but the sound was lost amid the din of Joe working the zipper of his bag. His roommate slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and shoved his feet into shoes.

"Where are you going?" Izzy asked, and he was unable to keep a trace of sullenness out of his tone.

Joe paused and looked him firmly in the eyes. "Away from you." Then he picked up his keys and was gone.

Izzy stared after him for a moment, then tried to return his attention to his computer.

Within five minutes, he was dry heaving into the tiny trashcan he kept by his desk.

Thursday

Matt glanced over at Amy, who was sitting at the edge of her bed and playing her electric guitar. He had come up to return a CD he had borrowed from Sora, but the sight of Amy hunched over her secondary instrument, playing songs that obviously should have been played on an acoustic guitar, convinced him to stick around for a little while, despite her roommate's absence.

Oddly, she was acting as if she were alone in the room. Matt knew that she was aware of his presence, because she had answered his knock. But they had only shared a few exchanges, with her answers growing more vague and distracted each time, before she fell into complete silence, behaving as if he had left. As if this weren't reason enough for concern, she was playing a string of slow, mournful songs and staring into space with unfocused, permanently moist eyes.

Matt could only watch her for so long before something in him snapped. He sat beside her, and she paused long enough to look over at him, blinking owlishly. "If you play one more depressing song, I swear to God, I will remove every string from your guitar."

"No!" she cried, shielding the instrument with her arms. Matt sighed and shook his head. So, she was going to play this childishly.

"I was joking," he said, and she slowly unfurled her arms, giving him a cautious look. "Now. Why are you playing this kind of music on an electric guitar, and… Well, why are you going through some kind of emo playlist?"

Amy smiled, but it was stiff and nervous. "I'm of Irish ancestry. I like depressing music."

"Mm-hmm." He raised an eyebrow in response, and she began to squirm slightly. Matt waited in silence, knowing that she was likely to cave under his glance, but, to his surprise, she held firm. So, then, it was time to start casting around for answers. He began to ask questions in rapid succession, closely watching her face for traces of answers that she wasn't providing verbally.

"Classes going okay?"

"They're fine."

"Getting along with Sora?"

"You know I do. Why do you keep asking about that? Is it because you liiiiike her?"

"Please. That's beside the point right now. Let's see… Are you upset about whatever must have happened to your acoustic?"

"It's repairable. I miss it, but I'll get it fixed soon, and I have this great electric that you guys gave me." She patted her guitar, and Matt's eyes flicked to it. Amy had never accepted any of the money that the Teenage Wolves offered her for her participation in their shows and their CD, so they decided to use some of what she was technically owed to provide her with her own electric guitar, since it was inconvenient to find one for her every time they needed a secondary guitarist or a stand-in for band practice. She had insisted, with open, bossy delight, that they all sign it for her, and had spent an inordinate amount of time admiring the sunburst pattern on the body.

"And what happened to your acoustic was…"

"An accident," she finished. But something about the way her eyes rolled and her mouth twitched into something between amusement and a grimace said, quite clearly, _Tai's stupid ass did it_. It was an expression that Matt was pretty used to by now. But whatever had caused damage to her instrument, it seemed like she wasn't angry about it.

Matt was beginning to grow stumped. He wanted to ask if her father had called her, but he was worried that just the question would upset her further, and it was unlikely, anyway. Then he straightened and shook his head. He had grown so focused on his interest in Sora that he had forgotten about the unusual development in Amy's life.

"How's it going with Izzy?" he asked, unable to keep the brotherly teasing out of his tone. And, just like that, the neck of the guitar slipped out of her hand, and her eyes began to fill with liquid. She opened her mouth, then shook her head and looked away, as if not having eye contact with him would make the question disappear.

"Hey, now," Matt said gently, taking hold of her shoulders and tilting her towards him. He gently tugged on the neck of her guitar, and she lifted her arms obediently, watching passively as he removed the instrument from her body and sat it behind them on the bed. "What's happening with him?" Matt wanted to ask if Izzy had done anything to her, but he was confident that the little redhead hadn't tried anything like that, and, unlike Tai, he understood that accusing Izzy and getting angry would only upset her further. He hoped that it was just some kind of misunderstanding. "What's happened?"

"_Nothing,_" she said, sniffing wetly. "That's the problem. Whenever I knock on the door, no one answers, and at first I thought it was just coincidence, you know, that no one was in. But I can't find him at lunch time in the cafeteria anymore. Yesterday, Joe let me in when I came up, and Izzy hardly talked to me, and he didn't even _look _at me. I tried to talk to Joe, you know, because we have some classes together and they're friends, but when I do, he just looks really sad and uncomfortable and asks me to try and be patient with Izzy, but that's all I can get out of him." She began to twist the hem of her dress around in her hands.

Matt stared at her for a long moment. For starters, he had no idea why Izzy would ignore her, other than his being naturally antisocial. What was more surprising and interesting to him was the effort she was clearly putting into trying to spend time with Izzy. "Amy," he said gently, rubbing her back in a soothing, circular motion. "Why do you care so much? I've seen Mimi literally _beg_ you to do things with her and her friends, and you used to turn her down without batting an eye. I've seen you turn down a thousand offers of doing things and going places. So why chase after Izzy when it seems like he's trying to avoid you?"

She leaned into his touch, rested her head against his, and sighed deeply. "I've been asking myself the same question. Do you think I should take a hint and give up?"

"Well…" he said, hesitating. He had never seen her pursue a relationship on her own, so her interest in Izzy seemed like a healthy change. And if there was any chance of it being romantic, then he definitely wanted to encourage it, since he had been unsure if she would ever be brave enough to participate in romance again, especially so soon after what had happened to her. But he didn't want to tell her to throw her energies into a doomed enterprise, and it certainly didn't sound like Izzy wanted to talk to her.

"I don't know," he said at last. "It would be easier to give you my opinion if I knew how you felt about him." He pulled away from her and fixed her with a questioning look, but she wrapped her hands up and began to wring them, and her eyes watched their progress with rapt attention.

"I…don't…know. But I really, really want to talk to him." For a moment, she was quiet, but then she turned to him suddenly, and Matt was unable to determine if she was angry or sad. Upset seemed the best word. "I don't understand! He acted like he was enjoying himself. When we said goodbye last Friday night, he said he would absolutely like to do something together again, and I'm sure he meant it. I can't help but wonder if something went wrong in his life, and, if it did, I want to help him." A tear leaked down her cheek, and she wiped at it with annoyance, as if it were a fly buzzing around her face.

Matt patted her back, stalling for time. He felt guilty, being so wrapped up in his own blossoming love life that he forgot about his friend's needs, and he was still shocked and oddly hopeful about the way she spoke of Izzy. "You really think a lot of him, don't you."

Amy stared into her lap and sighed. "Yes. I do. He left a strong impression on me." She turned her body so that she was staring out the window, where the sun was just beginning to set. "At first, I wasn't even sure I should go out with him, which was ridiculous, because I suggested it in the first place. And I was scared of him when I put the skates on, because they made me defenseless, since I didn't know how to skate. Scared of _him_, can you imagine? But… He's so gentle and considerate… I felt comfortable again in no time. And then… And then I started to feel not just comfortable, but safe." She started to chew her lower lip, and it made her nose and mouth move like a rabbit's. "But he was really rude to me yesterday."

Matt's hands gripped Amy's comforter roughly. This was serious. Reading between the lines, Amy was saying that she trusted Izzy on some level, and, in her case, that was far too valuable to risk losing. "What can I do to help?" he asked, staring at one of her random drawings of Harry Potter characters taped to the wall. She was just like a kid sometimes, and that brought out his protective instincts, the same ones that seem to spring up whenever his brother needed something, despite the fact that TK was in high school now. "Do you want me to see if I can get Izzy to talk to me? Or maybe Joe?"

"No!" she cried, grabbing his knee. "No. But there is something you can do for me."

"What's that?" Matt asked, half hopeful, and half suspicious. Sometimes, Amy seemed to insist on sabotaging herself, on refusing what she needed most, on valuing herself far too little, and he feared that whatever she was going to say would reflect that.

She gently squeezed his knee. "Don't say anything to anyone about this."

Matt closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. She was, in essence, refusing help. "And, by anyone, you mean Tai." It wasn't a question. Matt knew exactly what she was implying, and his voice was toneless. He hated to admit it, but her rejection of their assistance hurt.

"I mean anyone," she said stubbornly. But a small, reluctant smile pulled at her lips, and she tilted her head. "But yes. I mostly mean Tai." They raised eyebrows at each other in unison, and Matt knew they were both imagining Tai knocking Izzy's door down, throwing the redhead over his shoulder, and plopping him down in front of Amy, then standing by and growling quietly while they talked.

Matt wasn't sure which part of this daydream was sadder: the fact that it's exactly what Tai would do if he found out about this, or the fact that Matt didn't think it was an entirely bad idea.

There was a long silence, and then Matt extended a hand to her. "Come on. Grab your guitar. Let's find Sora and play some music for her… And nothing depressing, alright?"

"I have studying to do," she began, but Matt cut her off with a slashing hand motion.

"Do it later. I'm not leaving you to mope alone in here, and I know this will cheer you up." He picked up her guitar, grabbed her wrist, and led her out of the room, ignoring her weak protests. She could just suck it up and accept his concern, damn it.

Friday

Izzy set his digital music library to shuffle and leaned back, wanting some distraction from the miserable feelings he had allowed to build up in layers inside of him. At this point, they were beginning to congeal together, clogging him up, just as sure to lead to some kind of spectacular, deadly failure as cholesterol in an artery. Joe was still rightfully disgusted with him (although they were still mostly getting along alright, due to the strength of their friendship), and he hadn't seen Amy again since he drove her out of the room with his boorish behavior. Although he tried desperately, he couldn't prevent his thoughts from wandering to that encounter, and he was in constant shame, and, ironically, in constant fear of having driven her away permanently.

He ground his teeth as he focused his attention on his music. His tastes would probably surprise most people, he knew. He had a fondness for folk music, standards, and electronica, the last being oddly useful for when he was doing long strings of calculations. But, right now, electronica would only jumble him up further, so he skipped those songs as they appeared with a disinterested click. He allowed his mind to wander, as much as it was capable of doing, as _Stormy Weather, Summertime, Tender is the Night, _and _Fly Me to the Moon _drifted through the room. Then _April Come She Will _followed, with the warm sound of an acoustic guitar accompanying the calm voice of Art Garfunkel. It had never been one of Izzy's particular favorites, and he almost skipped over it, but it seemed like too much effort all of a sudden, so he allowed it to go on.

April, come she will

When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;

May, she will stay,

Resting in my arms again.

June, she'll change her tune,

In restless walks she'll prowl the night;

July, she will fly,

And give no warning to her flight.

August, die she must,

The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;

September, I'll remember,

A love once new has now grown old.

Blinking, Izzy replayed the song. Something was straining in chest, and he was at a loss as to explain it. The guitar work, while cheerful and melodic, didn't seem to be what was tripping him up, so he focused in on the lyrics. They were almost nonsensical, really, but there was something… There was something lying quietly below them, making them cohesive and meaningful in a way that could only be seen with contemplation. And there was something about this combination of bright guitar sounds, of meaning hidden by poetic nonsense, of the description of a woman's inscrutable behavior, of the likening of female temperaments to the ever-changing seasons, that made him think of the person and the feelings he had been desperately trying and failing to avoid.

Amy's face appeared in his mind, beginning with her eyes, just as the Cheshire cat appeared grin-first. And suddenly, he was so desperately, miserably lonely. He was used to solitude, had embraced it years ago over a misunderstanding with his parents that had cultivated his natural tendencies to be reclusive and emotionally distant. He could spend weeks alone, without speaking a single word, and never feel lonely. But right now, all of that tolerance for being by himself was dried up.

Suddenly, his mental image of Amy took on the hurt, shocked expression she had shown when he completely ignored her a few days ago in this same spot, and he felt a deep sting of shame and regret. _I'm terrible at dealing with people_, he told himself. _It's better for her not to be involved with me. Even if I did reach out to her, even if she did forgive me for avoiding her like this, I'd probably just hurt her in the end._

The door suddenly opened, and Izzy jumped in his seat, startled by Joe's appearance. He was carrying a paper bag, and he walked into the room and dropped it on Izzy's desk. "Eat that," he said harshly. "Don't think I haven't noticed you skipping meals lately."

"Hello," Izzy replied dryly, poking at the bag curiously. It smelled like Chinese food. Well, fake, Americanized Chinese food, to be precise. Although there was a definite dull, pounding sensation of hunger in his gut, Izzy didn't feel much like eating. He had a way of forgetting to eat even when he was in good spirits, so absorbed in his work that he simply kept going without pause, and he had discovered during the two lowest points of his life that this bad habit could go to an extreme when he was upset.

But he could feel Joe staring at him, so he pulled the take out box out of the bag, then dumped the fortune cookie out, as well. He opened the white box and found shrimp fried rice piled inside. "Thank you," he said, standing and going to the closet for a paper plate and plastic utensils. Then, knowing that it was best to show politeness after receiving kindness, he continued, "Did you have a nice time with Mimi?"

"You know I did," Joe answered, and Izzy turned in time to see him coloring and grinning at the ceiling like a fool. "I was surprised that she wanted Chinese, though. She always seems to go back and forth about her dietary restrictions. One day, she's vegan. Then she's vegetarian. Then she doesn't eat rice or marshmallows, I don't know, I can't keep up with it. But apparently she's going through something of a stressful spot in one of her classes, and I think today she was a whatever-is-bad-for-me-tarian."

A tart retort, centering on how anyone could possibly be having trouble with any of the classes on Mimi's light, easy schedule, danced up to the tip of Izzy's tongue, but that would _not _put Joe in a good mood, so he swallowed it. The next thing that came to him was to roll his eyes and drawl out the word 'fascinating' to its longest possible extent, but that wasn't much better. _I'm absolute rubbish when it comes to small talk_, he thought grimly. In the end, he nodded, then hid his face by opening the mini fridge door and pulling out a bottled water.

Izzy went back to his desk, emptied the food onto the plate, and turned to face Joe, putting the plate on his lap. Joe, he knew, wouldn't let him out of his sight until he ingested the majority of the rice and shrimp, so he went ahead and got comfortable. But, as Joe watched him, something dark seemed to be slipping over his expression, and he didn't think it bode well for him.

"So. Mimi tried to get Amy to go to dinner with us."

Izzy fought to keep the grimace off his face, using the fork in his mouth to his advantage. Yes, this boded about as well as leaving a missile-sized air shaft open to the surface of your Death Star.

Joe fixed him with an accusing look. "She really didn't seem herself, Izzy. She didn't smile or say something perky or strange the whole time, and Mimi spent almost fifteen minutes trying to convince her to go with us." There was a long, incredibly uncomfortable silence, and Izzy had to swallow some water before he could say anything.

"I hope she's alright." He took another bite, one so enormous that Joe couldn't reasonably expect him to speak again any time soon. Joe's eyes narrowed, and his arms crossed.

"She asked about you. Several times, in fact."

"Several times?" Izzy echoed, so surprised that he forgot about his mouth being full. A few grains of rice flew out, and Joe edged backwards slightly. Joe waited, looking grimly amused, as he finished chewing and swallowed the rest. "You were only with her for a quarter of an hour."

"And yet she managed to ask about you a few times. And don't think that was the first time. I'm getting sick of trying to explain your behavior to her. She's seriously heart broken, Izzy, and it's entirely your fault, and you need to talk to her before I _make you _talk to her."

Izzy's brain sputtered like an old car engine. He knew she was upset about his withdrawal, because of the way she had looked at him when Joe let her in the other day. But he had no idea that it was causing her _that_ much pain. "There must be some other issue in her life right now," he said nervously, unsure of whether he was talking to himself or to Joe. "Why would she be so invested in me? She hardly knows me!"

Joe raised an eyebrow at him. "You've been moping around in here for a solid week, Izzy. You haven't been eating. And it's all because you're afraid of how she makes you feel, but unwilling or unable to let go of it. So, I really don't think you're in a position to ask why _she's_ upset over your behavior."

Izzy put the plate on his desk and sighed. Part of him was annoyed at Joe's directness, and by his insinuation that he had feelings for Amy, but he knew he probably deserved it, so he let it go. "I didn't intend to hurt her," he said softly, staring at his glowing, underlit keyboard. Guilt began to weigh heavily over him, and he began to droop in his chair.

"Well, she's hurting. So you had better do something about it."

Izzy stared vacantly at one of his monitors, trying to think of a reply, but a loud knock on the door saved him the trouble. Joe stood automatically and opened it, and Mimi flounced into the room, holding something long and flat in a tiny, delicate hand. Izzy's eyes automatically went to her long, flowing skirt. It billowed out behind her in a wave of pink, ethereal folds. Somehow, it exaggerated her size and her quick, jerky body movements. He looked at her face and saw an expression of mixed suspicion and anger, and he had no clue what that could portend.

"Izzy," she said, patting Joe's arm as she passed him, "do you know what this is?" She held out the thing she was holding. It looked like an elongated, slightly flattened stapler, but he was sure that wasn't the correct answer.

"I'm afraid not," he said, glancing past her to share a baffled look with Joe. He shook his head slightly and widened his eyes. _You're on your own, chum_, his expression seemed to say. He backed away from Mimi slowly, as if to avoid drawing her attention, and sat down silently in his desk chair.

Mimi waved the mystery object in his face. "_This_," she said, "is a straightening iron. You plug it into the wall, and it heats up." Izzy was tempted to correct her by pointing out that you plugged electronics into a socket, rather than the wall, but he was too curious about the punchline of this conversation to interrupt her. He simply stared politely at the object being waggled before him.

"Once it gets hot," she continued, and one of her hands caressed the instrument with a sensuality so sharp that it had Izzy shifting uncomfortably, "you put your hair between it, and it kills the frizz and removes curls." Mimi began to pace around the room slowly, occasionally tapping her hip with the straightening iron, staring him down all the while. Izzy watched, mesmerized, as the fabric of her skirt flowed dramatically around her.

After a few protracted moments of silence, she came to a halt in the exact center of the room. "I don't know exactly what's going on with Amy," she said, and she began to tap the grooming instrument ominously against her open palm, as if it were a weapon. "She's clamming up on me. I _hate _when she does that. So, anyway, I can't say why she's so depressed lately. But, if my hunch is right, and it has to do with you…"

She smiled at him so sweetly, so tenderly, that Izzy swallowed instinctively. The full force of her beauty hit him like a blow, as if she were some kind of goddess, descending to earth in a glorious burst of radiance. Her hands reached out slowly and cupped his face, and he could feel the handle of the straightening iron, warm with her body temperature, against his right cheek. He looked desperately to his brain for some kind of explanation, but it was sputtering pathetically, and so he sat in her hold, silent and still, like a half-wit. Mimi's face was only a moment away from his, and he couldn't pull his eyes from hers. Distantly, he was aware of the tickling sensation of sweat forming on his forehead.

"If you've hurt Amy in any way… Well, I'll only give you one warning. Make it right before the end of the weekend. And, even if you haven't hurt her, if you ever do…" Suddenly, she pulled back from him and clacked the arms of the straightening iron together in front of his face. "I will heat this baby up to its highest setting and slowly _castrate you with it_."

Then she turned, patted Joe affectionately on the cheek, and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Izzy stared at the door, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, for a full minute before he was able to turn his head towards Joe. Their eyes locked, but neither of them seemed able to say anything. Finally, Joe cleared his throat, slumped back in his chair, and looked at the ceiling.

"I think this is the first time I've ever felt terror and arousal simultaneously," he said lightly, as if he were commenting on the weather. He crossed his arms, produced an oddly dreamy expression, and turned his chair around to face his desk.

_I'm surrounded by bloody lunatics, _Izzy told himself. The faint scent of his food slowly called him back to the sane, rational world, and he picked up his plate and dragged the fork around in it. But, somehow, the recent threat to his genitalia made it seem even less compelling than before. "I believe I've lost my appetite," he mused aloud, pushing the plate away on his desk.

"Eat it," Joe ordered, tapping his finger against a textbook impatiently.

"I'll finish it tomorrow," he said, and he began to pile the rice and shrimp back into the takeout box. Joe turned and fixed him with a glare, and he nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. But I really will eat it tomorrow." His friend looked at him for a moment, then sighed.

"I suppose I can see where you're coming from," he said, and then he shook his head and opened a text book. Izzy fought down a sigh of relief. He was extremely glad to find himself out of the limelight. He opened the door to throw his plate away in the hall trashcan, then put the container in the mini fridge. Then his eyes fell on the fortune cookie, and he sat at his desk and opened the wrapper. The cookie itself held no interest for him, but he enjoyed reading the fortunes. His clever fingers pulled out the confection and broke it apart, then extracted the strip of paper from the shattered remains.

It read: _May your desire be always greater than your fear._

For a moment, Izzy stared at the tiny red text, unable to absorb the message under the sheer weight of the situational irony. Then his brain sparked back into function, and he dropped his face into his palm. _Oh, for- Even the damn cookie is patronizing me._

_Fine, _he snarled in his mind. _Fine. Damn you, Joe. Damn you, Mimi. Damn you, anonymous fortune writer, who is surely staring at the wall and questioning the point of his existence in some tiny apartment room. Damn you all. _

He stood, moving quickly and jerkily under the force of his sudden anger, resignation, and fear. Truth be told, he would rather not do this, but the combined guilt trip from himself and all of the people he had just damned left him no choice. His options were to act or to smother under the weight of his own remorse. Joe turned towards him, and his eyes were slightly wide. "Izzy," he said, watching him struggle to shove his feet into shoes, "where are you going?"

"I have some business to attend to," Izzy muttered, not looking away from his footwear.

"You… You're going to talk to her, aren't you!" he said, smiling hopefully. "Oh, well done, Mimi!"

Izzy closed his eyes and forced a slow breath through his clenched jaws. "Please don't praise someone for threatening to pry my scrotum off with a heated grooming device. At least, not in my hearing." Joe grinned, shook his head, and turned back to his books. Sighing, Izzy grabbed his wallet, key, and cell, then slipped out of the room.

He almost went directly down the stairs and to Amy's room, but it occurred to him that he might want to have something to ease his apology. So, he passed her floor and made his way to the tiny, extremely overpriced convenience store located in the middle of this group of dorm buildings. Along the way, he realized that he had become another man in a long line of men hoping to win forgiveness from a woman with a peace offering. Somehow, that thought only made his mood worse.

Once he stepped through the store's glass doors, his dark eyes scanned the shelves for something suitable. They were packed with junk food and microwavable meals, things that would appeal to college kids. Izzy crossed his arms and frowned at the precarious stacks of unhealthy foodstuffs. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no concept of Amy's tastes in food, other than that he had once observed her eating pretzels and a turkey sandwich. Not exactly helpful information at the moment.

Reluctantly, he tried to recall Shauna's tastes, but he stopped when he realized that he was equating Amy to his ex-girlfriend. That was just too insulting to Amy, so he gave that up and wandered deeper into the store, down narrow aisles brimming with Cheeto bags, condoms, energy drinks, Hot Pockets… Everything a college student needed, except nutrition and alcohol.

The far end of the aisles led to a large freezer with sliding doors, and Izzy smiled when he saw the enormous selection of pints of ice cream. He had no memory of anyone ever saying that they didn't like ice cream; all he had to do now was select a flavor. Personally, the strawberry looked like the best choice, but he went with the chocolate brownie flavor for Amy, although he couldn't say why. Perhaps it was just the stereotype that women like chocolate. Whatever the reason, he grabbed a pint and made his way to the cash register, where a disinterested boy glanced up from his magazine, raising a brow at his selection.

"Fucked up, huh?" he asked, grinning cheekily as he scanned the bar code. Izzy felt a muscle twitch in his cheek, and he said nothing as he fished some money out of his wallet. He hadn't realized that chocolate, brownie-laden ice cream was such a clear indicator of guilt. The boy shrugged, bagged the pint, and handed him his change.

With his peace offering secured, Izzy made his way to Amy's room. Soon he was standing at her door, and he could faintly hear the sound of a softly singing voice. He strained his ears, oddly eager to hear her sing, but couldn't make out much from here.

Shaking his head, he pressed his back to the wall beside her door, trying to plan out what he would say. But the longer he stood there, the more difficult the situation seemed, and the less sure he became of his chances of being forgiven, and of his right to even be standing here. He could vaguely hear her walking around (she wasn't exactly light on her feet), and she slowly approached the end of the room nearer to the door. As she came closer, he could hear her voice better, rising into a ghostly swell. He eventually recognized it as a song from _Les Miserables_, which he had seen once at his mother's insistence.

I saw him once, then he was gone!

We were like dreamers at night

Who meet as in a trance, and part again.

Two phantoms in the shadows of the moon,

Can people really fall in love so soon?

He walked alone, he seemed alone, like me.

Could he have known

That moment was my destiny?

I had to run away, and it was like a dream.

I saw him once, the dream is true.

I saw him once, and once will do!

One thing was suddenly abundantly clear: she was born to sing. Her body was a living instrument. Izzy shut his eyes and groaned softly, grateful that no one was in the hallway. Her voice was exquisite. It lilted gently, sweetly over every word, and she wrapped her light, airy sound over each one with a lover's tenderness. Instinctively, she captured the emotion of each phrase, sounding every bit the dazzled, confused, love-struck youth, so frightened by her first romantic feelings that she was content to let the moment slip by. And that faint ethereal quality that always seemed to hover around her, just at the edge of his perception, was in full force when she sang. She was a spirit, a specter, a faery, a druid.

Izzy turned away and slipped back into the stairwell. There was no way he could touch her. She might as well belong to another dimension entirely, she might as well be the faery queen, glancing over her fantastic court with those eyes that could melt a man down to his marrow. And he was very much a grounded, ordinary man, a man who trusted in science and rationality, a man who would never be able to comprehend a woman like her.

That's what he told himself as he returned to his room, exceedingly grateful to find Joe gone. It was a decent excuse for failing to talk to her, but, deep down, the voice of truth was whispering his real motive.

_You're a coward._

Saturday Afternoon

"I _still_ can't believe you chickened out."

Izzy threw his head back, slammed his pencil against his desk, and closed his eyes. "Joe. _Enough_."

They were both working at their desks, as per norm. Joe had been heckling him about bailing on his mission ever since he found out about it the night before.

The squeaking of Joe's chair announced that he was turning, most likely with the intent of starting up another scolding, but a rustling sound near the door had him standing. But apparently he had forgotten to turn the lock after letting himself back in after using the restroom, because the door opened, and Izzy cringed as Tai stormed into the room.

"Izzy!" he said, not bothering with any preamble. Usually, Izzy approved of directness, but this was a bit…much. "Listen, man. I know you don't owe me anything, but I really need a favor. It's for Amy." Tai pulled a face as he said Amy's name, and Izzy realized that he was hesitant to point out any kind of connection between his cousin and the person he was appealing to.

"Oh, wow, would you look at that! I completely forgot, I have to meet someone in the library," Joe said, standing and grabbing his duffel bag. He brushed past Tai, and Izzy stared at his fleeing form with wide, desolate eyes. Apparently his roommate was determined to never be pulled into a Tai encounter through his influence ever again. On the one hand, Izzy could hardly blame him. On the other, he was pissed to find himself abandoned in Tai's abrasive company.

Izzy forced himself to breathe calmly. Tai frowned at him, then closed the door and sat in Joe's vacated seat. "I broke Amy's guitar," he said after a pause. He bent forward and clasped his hands between his knees, looking pained. "I think it's really got her depressed. I keep trying to get her to go to the repair place with me, but it's like she's too down to want to go anywhere. Not that she normally wants to go anywhere…" Contrarily, Izzy found himself perking up a little. Was it possible that he had nothing to do with Amy's stormy emotional climate after all?

"What does this have to do with me?" he asked, and Tai nodded, looking strangely meek.

"Well. I, uh, the nearest repair place isn't within walking distance, and the bus doesn't get me close enough, either. And I guess I thought it might be less awkward if someone else is there. I guess she speaks well of you, or whatever, and maybe it would cheer her up if you went, too. Not that I need you around."

Izzy crossed his arms and sat up straighter in his chair, annoyed that Tai was talking down to him even as he asked for his help. "Tai. I am not your chauffeur." This was why Izzy hated letting people know that he had a car. Suddenly, he had more 'friends' than he knew what to do with.

Tai's nostrils flared, but he took a deep breath and held his hands out beseechingly. "I know. That's why it's a favor. I'd really owe you one. I'll find some way to pay you back."

"I do _not _need to have you in my debt," Izzy said, grimacing heavily. "The last time I was, you dragged me to a party that I didn't want to attend, and I ended up getting drunk enough to challenge you to a six cup match of beer pong. If you'll recall."

"And you met Amy," Tai countered. His hands turned into fists on his knees, and his knuckles were whitening beneath his dark tan.

"And a fat lot of good that's done me!" Izzy cried, too struck with his recent unhappiness to consider the implications of his words. Tai stared at him for a moment, and then his eyes went oddly unfocused, almost glazed. Izzy flinched and pulled back, subconsciously putting more space between them, picking up a feeling of danger on an instinctive level.

"What are you talking about?" Tai asked slowly, and there was a strange buzzing sound beneath his words. It reminded Izzy of the droning of a bee hive.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Slip of the tongue." It was a weak excuse, but he couldn't think of a better one, at least not with Tai slowly standing up. Izzy's eyes went to his arms, which were bare from the bottom of his tee shirt's sleeves down, and he realized that there was enough build up of muscle there to push up some of his veins, making them clearly visible. The redhead swallowed. Hard.

"Now that I think of it," Tai began, advancing on Izzy's desk, "she hasn't mentioned doing anything else with you since the roller skating thing last Friday. And she hasn't been talking about you at all lately."

"That's likely due to the fact that we haven't seen each other since then. Well, save for one brief encounter." Izzy assumed that this would have a soothing effect on Tai, since he grew upset the last time they went out together. Tai froze completely, and then his body began to shake slightly. Izzy was briefly confused, wondering why the other boy suddenly seemed afraid, until he realized that he was actually falling into a deadly rage. His palms instantly went slick with cold sweat.

"This hasn't been about the damn guitar at all, has it," Tai said quietly. "No. No, you did something to her, didn't you!" And then Tai's hands were around his throat, and the other boy's skin was like a fire against his, so hot with his sudden rage that it seemed to be burning him.

"I didn't!" Izzy choked, but Tai hauled him to his feet anyway.

"You have thirty seconds to tell me what's going on here," Tai breathed, and he backed him into the rough, cinder block surface of the wall, doing it so forcefully that Izzy was almost winded.

His room seemed to sway in his vision, and fear overwhelmed him, rendering his tongue mute. This was no bully, trying to entertain himself with the suffering of someone smaller than him. This was an enraged man, trying to protect something he found precious, and that was much, much more dangerous. He began to writhe in Tai's grip, instinctively trying to free himself. But his twitching only seemed to aggravate Tai's temper further, so he forced himself to stop moving, although he couldn't prevent his feet from seeking the floor in vain. Tai was holding him up off the ground, and it was putting unbearable pressure on his neck.

"Listen to me," Tai growled, putting his face remarkably close to his. "The last boy who fucked with her? You don't even want to know what I did to him. I almost got my own soccer team disqualified from the state championship game. I didn't even care. I was the captain, I worked all four years to get that team where it was, and I _did not give a fuck_, not after what that bastard did to her."

_Don't ask! _Izzy's mind begged of his curiosity. _Don't ask! He'll only grow more enraged if you ask him to talk about it! He's completely lost it! _Somehow, his self preservation instincts won out, and he managed to ignore the torrent of questions battering his brain.

"I didn't lay a hand on her. We had a pleasant outing, and then we went our separate ways. I simply haven't spoken to her since then." He tried and failed to suppress another twitch. He felt like a fish flapping about on the ground, unable to breathe, unable to get his bearings. His hands went to Tai's, and he tried to pry him off, or at least to loosen his hold, but it was like trying to bend steel. They didn't give a centimeter; in fact, if Tai noticed his struggling, he gave absolutely no indication.

"Why wouldn't you?" Tai barked, and Izzy almost wept with relief when he realized that Tai's confusion and suspicion were warring with his rage. "Amy's weird sometimes, but she's fun to be around."

"Just busy," Izzy managed weakly. He was beginning to grow light headed, and he felt his eyes start to roll backwards as the world blackened around the edges. Suddenly, the pressure on his throat was gone, and Tai was holding him against the wall by the shoulders. He breathed in deeply, and his faintness began to pass.

When his vision cleared, Tai was glaring down at him, and he almost wished that he had passed out entirely. "Here's what we're going to do," Tai growled, and his hands closed on his shoulders with bruising strength. "You're marching down to her room right now. I'm getting to the bottom of this."

Panic burst through Izzy's chest like fireworks. "Or else what?" he spat, and he was equally impressed and horrified with the snark he injected into his words. Tai's scowl morphed into a wild, crazed smirk.

"Or else I'll bash your head in and carry you there unconscious. Either way, you're going to Amy's room. It's your call." He wasn't joking. His arrogant smile made it painfully obvious.

"I'm beginning to hate your 'choose an option' game," Izzy muttered, and Tai grinned and released him, smacking him on the back hard as he stepped away from the wall. He tried not to hiss in pain, tried not to rub his neck or shoulders as he made his way to the door.

"I'm beginning to wish that you had chosen the hard way," he said ominously. Izzy swallowed hard. There was nothing for it but to go see Amy, and he fretted the entire way, completely unable to predict how this encounter would go, but feeling oddly grateful that Tai had stepped away from the murderous rage that had consumed him just a moment ago.

Far too soon for his liking, Tai was knocking on Amy's door. Izzy could hear her feet pattering against the floor, could identify the moment when she stumbled by the sudden irregularity in the sound, but she must not have fallen, because the door opened promptly. Then, her doe-like eyes locked on his, and he watched them widen.

"H-hi?" she muttered, and her eyes went to her feet. Izzy glanced down, too, following her movement, and he saw that she was wearing adorable knee-high socks dotted with ladybugs. He lifted his gaze and observed that her hands were wringing, that she was chewing her lower lip.

"Amy," he breathed, unable to bear her obvious signs of discomfort. "May I come in?" Then Tai snorted behind him, and he remembered that he had not, in fact, come here of his own volition. His face colored with his shame as he realized that it had taken the threat of physical harm for him to come to her.

She nodded and stepped back, allowing the two of them to enter the room. She sat at the edge of her bed, and he took her desk chair. Tai crossed his arms and stood over the two of them like a body guard. Izzy rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, wondering how he was going to say what he needed to say with Tai hovering around.

"Tai," Amy said calmly, pressing her hands to her knees. "Sora just texted me asking if anyone wants to go grab dinner at Chipotle with her. I bet you could catch up, if you hurry." Izzy fought to keep his expression neutral. Was Amy trying to get rid of her cousin? That surprised him. He would have thought that she had no desire to be alone with him, after the way he had treated her.

Tai's body jerked slightly, and he moved a step towards the door without seeming to notice it. "M-maybe next time," he muttered, but the creasing of his brow seemed to indicate indecision.

"Suit yourself," Amy said, shrugging and turning her attention to him. "Izzy, could you please help me with my calculus homework? I'm having the worst time with this question about Sherlock Holmes using the temperature of a cup of coffee to estimate a murder victim's time of death."

"Wait," Tai said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Aren't you mad at him?"

"Mad? At Izzy?" Amy echoed, looking mildly surprised. "No, not at all. Where did you get that idea?"

"I…" Tai colored horrifically, and his eyes swept over Izzy's neck, where faint signs of bruises in the shape of his hands were probably already forming. Sensing that Amy wanted Tai gone, too, Izzy played along with her, giving Tai an accusing look that had him backing up. "I… Wow. I really thought… I'm really sorry, Izzy. Let me just, uh… get out of your hair."

Then, miraculously, he backed out of the room, pausing just long enough to shoot Izzy a final look that said, _I am sorry about earlier, but, just so you know, I'll still kill you if you do something to her_.

"Wow," Izzy said, staring at the closed door. "I don't know if I've ever seen someone looking so abashed in my entire life.

"He deserves it," Amy said, sighing. She stood and gently put her hands on either side of his face, not unlike the way Mimi had yesterday. But, instead of drawing seductively close only to threaten him, she gently tilted his head, baring his neck for her inspection. "Stars!" she cried, running her fingers gingerly down the slope of his neck. A faint tremor went through his body at the feeling of her skin on his, and he was shocked to discover how sensitive to stimulation his neck was. "Look at these marks! Was he trying to choke you to death?!"

Izzy shut his eyes and fought down a groan. He was desperately trying to deny how good her innocent touch and her concern made him feel. "Don't think too badly of him," he said quietly. "I deserved it. And, after the way I treated you the other day, I was too embarrassed to speak to you on my own. His methods, while violent, were effective, and I'm…" he paused as he tried to think of an adequate phrase. "Begrudgingly grateful." His hands tightened into fists in his lap. "Also, I'm sorry you felt the need to lie to convince Tai to leave."

"Who's lying?" Amy asked, raising a brow as she tipped his head about for a clearer view of the damage. "I was never angry with you. Hurt, yes, but not angry. And I do need help with that homework question. I make a point of being honest." She tsked and ghosted her fingers over what must have been a bad bruise, and Izzy fought not to shiver.

Izzy frowned and tried to recall exactly what Tai had said. Technically, Amy hadn't lied to him; he had asked if she was angry, and she said no. The question implied that there was something wrong between them, which there was, but only specifically inquired about one emotion. Amy's answer, while technically honest, led Tai to believe that things were calmer between the two of them than they actually were.

Izzy wasn't sure if he should be impressed or afraid. "For someone who doesn't lie, you're awfully skilled in the art of misdirection."

"That's the power of truth and language," she said off-handedly. It was clear that her attention was firmly on his wounds. "I wish I could do something for these bruises… I don't even have concealer to lend you…"

"Don't trouble yourself over it," Izzy said softly. His hands closed around the seat of her desk chair as her touch continued to sent a faint thrum of electricity down his nerves. What was _with _his neck? Was it a weakness he had always had? If it was, then Shauna had never discovered it.

His facial muscles tightened at the thought of her. _Forget her. Say what you came here to say, fool. _He opened his mouth and tried to get the words out, but it was even more difficult than he had imagined to string together something sensible that didn't reveal too much of himself. In the end, he had no choice but to just say whatever came to mind. That was better than sitting in silence like an idiot.

"Amy… I really want to apologize for how I've treated you since we parted last Friday. I wish I could say that I have a reasonable excuse, but…" He took a deep breath and looked her in the eye, trying to ignore the feeling of her hands on his neck. "I… Lately, I've been experiencing some strong emotional turmoil, and I allowed it to negatively impact how I treated you. It was wrong of me. I don't have an excuse. All I can do is apologize sincerely, beg your forgiveness, and promise you that I'll find some other way of coping in the future."

Something softened in he expression, and her forehead instantly crinkled with concern. "I knew it," she whispered, putting faint pressure on his skin and drawing even closer to him. "Please, Izzy, is there some way I can help you?"

_Stop being so sweet_, Izzy's mind pleaded. _Remove your face from its compelling nearness to mine. Say something cruel, something bitter, something that will free me from my attraction to you. _But none of that was suitable for speaking aloud, so his brain offered up the least dangerous of his thoughts, and he latched on to it gratefully. "Help me?" Izzy echoed. "You ought to be scolding me. I treated you so callously; why are you offering to help me?"

She blinked down at him. "Eh? That? Don't worry about that." She flapped a hand dismissively. "You apologized. That's enough for me."

"No," Izzy said, and the sharpness in his voice surprised him. "No. Amy, I was knowingly cruel to you. You're brushing it off like it doesn't matter at all! I advocate forgiveness, and I'm very relieved to find myself forgiven, but, frankly, you should be more offended than you are."

Amy drew back from him, removing her touch, and Izzy cursed himself roundly for causing her to withdrawal, even as he breathed a small sigh of relief. She raised an eyebrow at him, looking faintly puzzled. "Uh, so what do you want me to do?" she inquired. "I don't think I understand."

"Show a little concern for yourself. I'll begin to worry about you if you show such obvious signs of disinterest in how you are treated." Color crept into his face when he realized how honest he was being. This girl was working her way deeper and deeper into his regard with every exchange, and he didn't know how to safeguard himself, or if he even wanted to.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head. "Uhhhh, okay. Here goes. Grrr. Izzy." She began to waggle a finger accusingly in the direction of his face. "That was such a mean thing you did. I'll forgive you this time, but you had better be nicer to me in the future. Grrr." Her delivery was entirely deadpan, except for the _grring_, where she seemed to amuse herself, scrunching her face up like a puppy trying to be scary. It was adorable, and Izzy felt a strange constricting sensation in his chest as he observed her.

A strong sense of earnestness flooded outward from her as she began her next sentence. "Now, what can I do to help you?"

Izzy slapped his forehead with his open palm. "_Amy_," he sighed. He allowed his eyes to sweep over her from head to ladybug-covered toe, wondering who had taught her not to care about slights toward herself. He knew he had hurt her, and she had displayed her hurt, but where was the anger, the sense of being wronged? There was something strange about Amy's sense of self respect, and he found himself growing deeply curious about it.

"Here's what you can do, if it pleases you," he said, touching her hands without thinking. "I heard from Tai that your guitar is in need of repair. I'll take you to have that done. And then, if you're willing, we'll return here and play that video game you mentioned. We can eat as much pizza and junk food as you'd like."

"I don't understand," Amy said, curling the very tips of fingers against his. "How does that help you? And, also, Tai will give me grief if I don't let him pay for the repairs."

"Oh, don't worry," Izzy said, smiling grimly. "It will be my pleasure to save the receipt for him." Then he slid his hands further up, so that their palms were pressed together, but he didn't hold her hand. It was important to him that she be able to escape easily if she wanted to. He knew she was antsy about being touched. "As for being helpful to me…" He tilted his head, and he could feel himself coloring as she blinked down at him, eyes wide and undeniably adorable. "It would ease some of my guilt over how I've treated you to do you a favor. And… And, being with you improves my overall emotional climate." _It's how I feel afterward that causes the trouble, _he added privately, but he was just going to have to find some other way to deal with that. It was abundantly clear that avoiding her wouldn't work. For one, her friends wouldn't allow it (he reflected that, even if he never used it again for its intended purpose, he was rather fond of having his maleness intact). For another, all it did was cause him pointless misery.

She lifted her hands from his and began to draw random, idle patterns on his palms with her fingertips. It tickled slightly, but he was careful not to react. "Can we hang out tomorrow, too?" she asked quietly, staring at the progress of her digits over his skin. "If… If it's not too much trouble?"

His instinct was to close his eyes, groan, and lean back in her chair, too emotionally overstimulated by the shy hopefulness in her voice to do otherwise, but he fought that down fiercely and miraculously kept his expression impassive. "I'm at your disposal."

Amy lifted her hands to her cheeks and averted her glance, smiling sweetly, and Izzy rose automatically at the signs of moisture in her eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked. He placed a hand on one of her upper arms, coming closer to her than he probably should have, but it couldn't be helped. He was concerned about her.

She nodded and went to the corner of her room, retrieving an enormous guitar case. "Yes. I'm sorry. Shall we take care of this before it gets too late?"

"As you will," he said, watching her carefully. "You're sure you're alright?"

She froze with her back to him. "Nn. I just… I'm really glad you came to talk to me."

"Amy…" His hand wandered to his chest, as if to soothe the sudden aching there. _Stop doing this to me, _he thought frantically. _What are you doing to me?_

"As am I," he said, and even to his own ears, there was something wistful and melancholy to his tone. Amy paused as she lifted the guitar, giving him a curious look, but she didn't say anything, for which he was grateful.

He had no idea what was going to become of him with regards to her, but he couldn't deny that he was both eager and frightened to find out.

**Author's note:**

Hey, it's the other side! And I'm seeing you!

Wow, this chapter was so much more fun to write than I thought. I love how Mimi dressed for the occasion when she threatened Izzy, oh, man, am I amusing myself. Actually, Mimi's entire scene was awesome to write. I hope people agree with me that she could be so threatening in defense of one of her girls. And the random convenience store boy giving Izzy a hard time? Classic. Izzy listening to Amy sing, the way he spoke callously and crumbled inside at the same time, and Tai slowly working his way up to completely losing it… Wait, am I writing my own review here, what are you doing, Hidden? -_-

Still not sure if the emotional content went well, although I did destroy my fingernails (by biting them) writing the scene where Izzy is a jerk to Amy, which I guess is a good sign? As you can see, these two will definitely _not _be having a smooth path to romance, if it ever goes that way at all. But, hey, life is hard, especially when you're two introverts with really bad romantic histories. They say that if you're not torturing the characters, you're doing it wrong…

Oh, also, I hope that I clearly revealed one of Amy's greatest faults in this chapter, namely, how little she values herself and her own feelings. It's a terrible fault to have, and we will eventually be seeing where she got it from (actually, Matt hints at it, and if you read GUWY, you know the answer already).

Uh also… Right! The day was saved today due to indifference and violence. Please, young folks… Find your moral content elsewhere, I am a bad role model, lol!

Oh, right, please be prepared for a delay between this chapter and the next. I will be writing chapters for my other two stories before I update this one again, so there may be a lull of 1-3 weeks before the next update, I'm sorry! But that's why today's chapter is super extra long.

Here's my question for the day! Do you think all of the drama in this chapter is caused by actual character traits, or am I just conjuring it up from the nether? It's very important to me to keep my writing free of contrived conflict. As much as I love Koushiro, I really do believe that Izzy would fight romantic feelings, kicking and screaming all the while about being a rational person, fearing his own emotions. But what do you think?

So many author comments, I must have liked and feared this chapter! I'm so nervous!


	12. At the PAC

_Don't cringe. Don't cringe. Do. Not. Cringe. _

Matt sat in a stiff, uncomfortable chair in a small room with a high ceiling. Other young adults were seated around him, and Amy was in the chair to his right. Matt's eyes were set on the girl standing in the front and center of the room. She was tremulously singing _Memory _from Cats, and her voice brutally emphasized the first word of each new phrase, such that listening felt remarkably like being slowly pummeled to death. His lips continuously curved upward and back, but he kept pulling them valiantly into a neutral position. The singer kept sliding her eyes to his, coloring, and squeaking mid-breath, and he wasn't sure if it was because of his expression or his good looks.

He hated his introduction to voice class, and he suspected that Amy did, as well. This was ridiculous. You would think that his time in a surprisingly successful band would have earned him a pass out of this purgatory, and that Amy's superior skills would net her one, too, but no. There was no way to place out of it. And so they sat here together, listening to an overenthusiastic woman just a few years their senior telling them, over and over, to breathe from the diaphragm. Tai hadn't understood his complaints until he pointed out that this advice was like telling a soccer player to kick the ball towards the other team's goal. Repeatedly.

Matt leaned forward and fought down a sigh, placing his chin on his palm and balancing his elbow against the surface of his desk. There was no 'auditioning' for participation in voice classes. True, if you wanted to major or minor in voice, you needed enough skill to be permitted into the performance choirs. But if you wanted to embarrass yourself by floundering through the introductory vocal classes before trying and failing a choir audition, then the college didn't stop you. _God_, how he wished they would stop you.

Finally, mercifully, the last plaintive piano chords died away, and the song came to an end. Matt joined his fellow students in clapping politely, then cleared his throat a little nervously. This part was almost as painful as listening to the performance. Now the teacher would call on random students to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the horror they had just witnessed, and the only good point he could see was that the girl had remembered all of the words, or at least done a convincing job of making some up. Whatever. The kind of music they were required to sing in this class wasn't really his thing.

They floundered through that ritual with painful, awkward slowness, and Matt was relieved to be left out of it entirely. Then the teacher picked up her notes, made an over-the-top clicking noise with her mouth, and smiled up at the room. Matt faintly wondered who was going to be called to present next. The first few classes had been devoted to group instruction, but now they had moved on to individual demonstrations, and everyone was supposed to be ready to sing every day, barring sickness.

"Amy Donahue?"

_Thank you, sweet and merciful Lord_, Matt thought, flicking his blue eyes towards the ceiling. He wasn't religious, but he'd make an exception to express his gratitude at not having his ears assaulted for a few minutes. Amy stood beside him, smacking his upper arm with her hip as she stood. She turned abruptly to apologize, but he made a dismissive hand gesture, so she smiled hesitantly and slipped a packet of sheet music off of her desk. Then she bounced to the front of the room, handing the papers to the pianist, who shifted his glasses and stared down at it.

Their teacher (he refused to think of her as a professor, since she only had a few years on them and was still taking classes here herself, albeit grad ones) insisted that they introduce themselves and their song before they started their performance, so Amy went to the designated spot in the front and center of the room. She stared out at the students for a moment, smiling sweetly, then swayed her body, automatically moving her feet the proper distance apart and shifting her weight so that she stood, straight and tall, but relaxed and slightly bent at the knee. Her shoulders moved back and down, automatically lifting and pulling apart her ribcage, freeing up the lungs and providing easy access to the strength of her diaphragm. It looked a little silly, it always did, but it was excellent form.

"Good afternoon," she chirped, and Matt grinned when he realized that she had gotten her form down _before_ the introduction, which was something of a silly mistake. "I'm Amy Donahue. Today I'll be singing _If I Loved You_ from Carousel. Thank you for your kind attention."

_Wait, what? _Matt thought, blinking up at her. Where had she learned to speak like- _Wait, right. Izzy. _His attention sharpened. Amy had babbled cheerfully to him and Tai about her weekend activities with Izzy, her cheeks rosy with color and her body sprightly with animation. Tai didn't seem to think much of it, but, then, well… Tai wasn't good with subtle physical cues. But he was, and he was growing more and more hopeful about what he was picking up from her. Provided, of course, that Izzy never withdrew from her again.

Amy tilted her head towards the pianist and smiled adorably. She had a way of always looking her best when she was either happy or caught in a particularly strong daydream, and, right now, that extra kick of beauty was in full force. Nothing seemed to get her going like performing. As the first notes of the piano tinkled through the room, her eyes sparkled with poorly contained excitement. Then she averted her eyes and tilted her head slightly, the perfect picture of wistfulness.

When I worked in the mill, weaving at the loom

I'd gaze, absentminded, at the roof.

And half the time the shuttle tangled in the thread,

And the warp got mixed with the woof…

If I loved you…

But somehow I can see

Just exactly how I'd be.

If I loved you,

Time and again I would try to say

All I'd want you to know

If I loved you,

Words wouldn't come in an easy way

Round in circles I'd go!

Longing to tell you, but afraid and shy

I'd let my golden chances pass me by.

And soon you'd leave me…

Off you would go in the mist of day

Never, never to know

How I loved you!

…If I loved you.

She breathed in deeply and began to repeat from 'longing to tell you,' and Matt took the repetition as a chance to glance around at the audience. Most of them were wide eyed and staring, and Matt could hardly blame them. Amy sang like a professional. Better than most professionals, actually. She had no need for vocal filters or fine tuning from the techs in a studio; it was all there, ready to go, in her voice. And as if her technical skills of hitting the right note at the right time and the sweet sound of her voice weren't enough, she could also act. Pain and longing were growing more evident by the second on her face and in her sound as she described the not-so-hypothetical situation of being in love but not knowing what to do about it.

Matt had seen her acting before. When there was no music, she was mediocre. But when she sang, she plucked the proper emotions out of the song and ran them through her body, as if it were a conduit, then released them outward, magnifying them along the way.

_Let's just say that I've paid money to see far less skilled artists, _he thought. He grinned when he noticed the teacher's pale face. She was probably wondering what she was supposed to do with a student who out-shined her.

The song ended, and there was a slight pause before the applause started, much less politely than the last time. The ritual of examining her performance was mercifully cut short by the end of the period, and Amy slipped her sheet music back into her backpack, stood, and threw it onto her shoulders, smacking him in the chest mid-toss.

"Oops," she said nervously, patting his chest, as if that would magically reverse any potential damage. "Sorry, Matt."

"Don't sweat it," he wheezed. What was she carrying in there, bricks? No, probably just some massive science textbooks. Expensive bricks, as far as he was concerned.

"Did I do alright?" she asked, smiling as she fell into step beside him. Matt rolled his eyes.

"Amy. You were fantastic, and you know it." His tone was a mix of affection and annoyance. He enjoyed her singing, he really did, but he kind of wished she wouldn't pry for the compliment. On the other hand, singing was her heart and soul; he could understand her need for the question and the validation.

She smiled, or beamed, more like, and pressed her palms to her cheeks. "You are too sweet, Matt." Her genuine pleasure had him softening, forgetting his annoyance. He shook his head and looked away from her, too proud to admit that she could change his emotional state.

They walked down the winding corridors of the music section of the Performing Arts Center, known as PAC to the acronym savvy student body. For a moment, they were silent, listening to the cacophony of sounds from the practice rooms, ranging from singing to tuba playing. Then they made their way to the acting area, which, for some reason, stood between the music corridor and PAC's lobby. The walls were covered with pictures from various plays thrown by the student body.

Finally, the hall gave way to the lobby, and Matt blinked into the sudden illumination. Their school had spared no expense here. The ceiling and walls were mostly glass, and sweeping, tiered stairwells connected artfully layered levels of flooring. It was actually a little difficult to find the theater you wanted, even though the doors were clearly labeled and all contained within the same room, because you had to figure out how to navigate the stairs to get to the level you needed. Amy came to a complete stop beside him, tilting her head this way and that, and he frowned and turned around when he realized that she was no longer beside him.

"S'wrong?" he asked, pivoting gracefully on his heel. Amy slammed her hands on her hips and worried her lower lip.

"Ehhh. Can you figure out how to get to this theater?" She held out a folded piece of paper to him, and he came to her and took it. It was a flier announcing a play. His eyes followed hers and found the entrance she needed, but with all of the stairs branching off every which way and all of the arches and half-walls, it was difficult to find the path to it.

Honestly, he wasn't sure, either, but didn't want to admit it. He stalled for time by asking a question. "Are you going to watch a play? Seems a bit early in the semester for them to have one put together."

Amy made a distracted trilling sound. She didn't look away from her path finding task when she spoke. "It's more like a collection of short scenes from a bunch of different plays. Think of it as a midterm for the acting students. I figured, since I'm here, I might as well poke my head in." Matt frowned, hoping that she wouldn't notice it. Amy's interest in the arts was much broader than his; he liked music. Rock music. Some pop, some blues, and even some classical, at least for playing while he did homework. But Amy was entranced with anything and everything artsy, from the theater to pottery making. That didn't mean that she was _good _at all of it, but she appreciated it.

Unfortunately for him, he was too much of a gentleman to walk away from this without asking if she'd like some company. And, so, fighting to keep the disinterest and reluctance out of his voice, he cleared his throat and offered to watch it with her.

"No thanks," she said bluntly, and he edged back a tad, feeling slightly (and contrarily) wounded at her refusal of his company. It injured his pride to hear a girl say no, at least in such a dismissive way.

Her eyes flicked to his for just a second, and she smiled. "I really do appreciate the offer, though. You really are a great guy, you know? But I'd rather not drag you to something you don't want to do in the first place." Her smile turned into a full-on grin. "You should enjoy not having to do that while you're still single."

He grinned nervously, suddenly thinking of the double load of sports events he would have to attend when Sora's tennis matches started up, assuming that things continued to go well. Then something occurred to him, and his frown returned.

"You want to be alone, don't you?" he said, somewhat suspiciously.

Amy twirled a lock of long, dark hair between her fingers, then flicked it back over her shoulder in an annoyed sort of way. "What's wrong with that?" she asked, somewhat sharply. "I hung out with Izzy most of the weekend. I went out to dinner with Sora and Mimi last night." She sighed and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "And, of course, they grilled me about Izzy. As if playing video games and doing homework together is so scandalous." She began to huff, shifting her feet in tiny, quick movements.

Matt fought down a laugh. _Damn, Mimi moves quick. _And he was glad to hear that Sora seemed to be trying to edge her way into Amy's tiny, restricted inner circle. They would be good friends for each other, and he was hoping that his net of intimate friends could all get along well.

"Alright, alright. How about this? I'll stay with you until you find your way to the theater, and then I'll head back."

Amy smiled and took hold of his arm. "Deal!" she chirped, and her annoyance disappeared under her smile. They navigated the misleading lobby together, and he left her on the bench outside of the appropriate door.

And then…

Amy thanked Matt, squeezed his arm, and released him, falling onto the bench with nothing remotely resembling grace. As her friend left, he turned enough to call, "If I see Izzy, I'll say hi!"

"It would be rude not to!" she said easily, brushing off his teasing. She was grateful that she had developed that ability over the years. As a child, the slightest tease from her boys had caused her to spit and raise her back, just like an annoyed cat. To be completely honest, she still did just that as often as not, but, well… It was still an improvement.

Amy pulled her cell phone out and checked the time, frowning when she saw that she had a few minutes to wait before the front doors opened. Her eyes slid idly about the lobby, and she noticed a group of people to the left, all standing in front of mirrors that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Blinking, Amy stared over at them, slowly realizing that the hallway beyond this theater led to the dancing classrooms. Having nothing else to do, she watched them openly, dimly hoping that they wouldn't care.

Four girls stood there, all listening to the muttered instructions of the most petite among them. Amy followed their lead, allowing her attention to focus on that girl, too. She was _tiny_, a few inches shorter than Izzy, and there was just enough weight on her to prevent her from being skin and bone. Her body was, to put it mildly and politely, lacking in the curve department, but grace seemed to drip from every sparse inch of it, and even her hand gestures were mesmerizing. Her coloration was similar to Amy's, with pale skin and dark brown hair, but her eyes were such a saturated shade of green that Amy could easily discern their color, even from so far away. They were very pretty, and Amy had to tear her attention away from them to get a look at the rest of her face. She had a tiny, upturned nose, slightly high cheekbones, and well defined lips. Something one of the other dancers said made her laugh, and her smile was vivacious, and more than a little mischievous.

_That one might be trouble, _Amy thought offhandedly. As if the thought were a summons, the girl suddenly glanced in her direction, and their eyes locked. She watched a feathery, thin eyebrow rise on the petite girl's face, and she broke away from her group and walked over to her.

"You're staring," she accused as she approached. The words were a bit harsh, but her tone was conversational…mostly. Amy blinked and pulled back, correcting her slumped posture. It seemed the thing to do when approached by someone whose spine seemed perfectly straight.

_That one is definitely trouble, _she amended. "I'm sorry," she said simply. "I just couldn't help but notice your eyes. You don't normally see such intensely green eyes, you know? They're amazing."

The girl paused her advance and crossed her arms. Her mouth dropped open for a moment, and then her lips twisted into something between a smile and a grimace. "Figures," she said, sighing. "The nicest compliment I've received since I've been here has been from a girl." She shrugged, a movement that exaggerated the boniness of her shoulders, and turned to leave, apparently satisfied enough with her answer to forgive her for her staring.

"I could try saying it again in a deeper voice," Amy joked, thinking of the way Matt had of lowering his voice when he wanted to impress the ladies. She snorted and pressed her wrists to her lips, trying to fight down amusement that the girl had no way of understanding.

"Uh, pass," the girl said as she went back to her friends. Unfortunately, Amy no longer had a view of her face, so she couldn't identify her reaction. She shook her head and forced herself to focus on the flier in her hands, attempting to keep her eyes to herself, which was a pity. The group had started going through what seemed to be some ballet moves, and she would have liked to watch.

A Little Later

Amy suppressed a yawn as students filed off the stage. So far, the performances had been…well, lacking. The kids were stiff and nervous, and Amy couldn't help but wonder if some of them were acting in front of a real audience, albeit a small one, for the first time. It didn't help that the first two scenes had come from _Our Town _and _The Glass Menagerie_. She found the former preachy in a distracted, roundabout sort of way, and the later too depressing. If only the flier had been more forthcoming with details…

Another group entered the stage, a young man and woman, and she shifted in her seat. This was one of the smaller, simpler theaters, and the accommodations were neither comfortable nor visually appealing. It was all very utilitarian. But, as the girl drew herself up and squared her shoulders, Amy forgot about her discomfort. Her eyes riveted to the actress, although she couldn't really say why.

The man spoke first. "Here she is, the doer of the deed- caught this girl burying him- but where is Creon?"

Amy choked down a gasp and sprang forward in her seat. The words 'Creon' and 'burying him' were more than sufficient to identify this as a scene from Sophocles's _Antigone_, and the prospect had her almost giggling with delight. Her hands flew together and went to her heart. This was going to be _awesome_. Well, assuming they could act.

Another man entered the stage, and the ancient, familiar tale was told. Antigone had performed burial rites for her brother against the decree of the King of Thebes, Creon. The king took offense at being disobeyed, and the scene showed him arguing with Antigone over her crime and sentencing her to death.

And Antigone was _breathtaking. _Proud, fierce, adamant, passionate… Every emotion was precise, clear, and convincing, and she delivered the foreign, ancient way of speaking so naturally that you would think she always spoke that way. Amy's eyes watched her with wonder, joy, and admiration, and she studied her carefully, determined to remember her appearance so she could talk to her later if she ever bumped into her in PAC's hallways.

Although it was a bit difficult to tell with the stage lighting, the girl seemed to have mocha colored skin. Her limbs were long and willowy, and her body was average height, slim, and boyish, long and lean. She had thick, black hair that she wore in a stylish bob, full, permanently flushed lips, and dark, saucy eyes. Amy was somewhat reminded of Olivia Wilde in her _Tron Legacy _role.

With shaking hands, Amy fished the flier out of her backpack and opened it up. There was a list of names, but they weren't linked to roles, and she huffed with frustration. Then she remembered that the other students had introduced themselves after the performance, and she settled down and returned her attention to the show.

The scene ended with the guards leading Antigone away to the spot where she would be buried alive, and Amy applauded enthusiastically. The kids returned to the stage and took their bows, and then introduced themselves one by one. Finally, Antigone stepped forward, smiled winningly, and gave her name, her voice as dark and compelling as a starlit, summer night.

"Shauna Cross."

**Author's Note: **This is going to go well, guys, I can _feel it_. Can't you?

Today's chapter feels a little different… I wanted to give you a look at the everyday life/classes scenario. The next chapter will do this for some of the other characters. I hope it was interesting… I worry that this chapter was boring, except of course for the reveal at the end, there.

I have no idea if any of you also read/know/admire Aveza, another author here on . If you do, fabulous! Perhaps you can identify the ballerina mentioned in this chapter, whom Aveza has graciously lent to me for my own personal, diabolical use in this story. If you don't, take comfort, as this is easily remedied! Just go check out her profile! Once the character is formally introduced, I will be sure to add the appropriate disclaimers, but, for now, it's confusing because I haven't given her name. But the ballerina is not mine, she is Aveza's, you'll love her (most of the time), and she will be popping back in every once in a while until the story progresses to sophomore year, at which point she'll be more prominent, so… That gives you time to learn about her over in _The Center of the Universe, A Boy and Girl Affair, _and other stories that Aveza has written.

Uhhh that is all I've got for now, see you next time!


	13. Oh, Right! We're Students!

**Author's Note: **I kinda dropped a bomb on you good folks last time, eh? I apologize if you ladies and gents are expecting an immediate explosion. C'mon. This is me. You know full well that I'mma draw it out.

Today, we will have another set of short scenes showing daily student life aspects (it isn't all classes). So, kindly excuse the rapid scene changing, and forgive me if it seems a little ADD. I just want to cover everyone without this taking up five chapters -_-

Enjoy, my dear chickadees!

Tai bounced a soccer ball against his head as he listened to his teammates joke, too brimming with energy to stand still, despite having run around for nearly two hours. Practice had just ended, and everyone was either chatting in little groups or heading to the showers. He began to notice the rapidly cooling moisture on the soccer ball, realized that it was his sweat, and cringed. Maybe he should have left himself enough time for a shower before agreeing to meet Sora…

He checked the digital clock on the scoreboard and cursed, jogging towards the side entrance to the stadium. Sora was standing there, absently tapping her foot. "Sorry!" he choked as he ran towards the gate. "I didn't realize that practice had run over." He threw the latch open from the inside, let her in, and locked it behind her. "Were you waiting long?"

"Not at all," she said easily, smiling warmly. Tai's eyes riveted to that smile. It reminded him a little of Kari, and he suddenly felt homesick and comforted all at once. Tai shook his head to clear out that strange feeling, then grinned nervously.

"Uh, good. So, let me show you the field, then…" He gestured towards her, then turned and led the way to the field. Sora's eyes glanced this way and that, but Tai wasn't really sure why. The areas of the stadium that weren't open to the public or specified for player use were like the concrete underbelly of some enormous beast, skeletal and cold.

He heard the sound of rapid footsteps behind him, and he cursed mentally when he realized that his nerves were making him walk too fast. Breathing deeply, he forced his pace to slow, giving Sora time to catch up.

And then she was beside him, and Tai was exquisitely aware of her, as if she were radiating heat or emitting light. He swallowed hard and focused on walking, on putting one foot forward and then the next. This was only his third time being relatively alone with Sora; Matt was kicking his ass in the numbers department, but the game was far from over.

Finally, they were back at the field, and a long, impressed "Wooooooow," slipped from Sora's lips as she observed it. Her body turned in a small circle, allowing her to take in every angle, to admire the enormous score board, the bright lights for night games and poor weather, and the stadium seating. Not every school had such a nice soccer field; usually only the football and basketball stadiums were nice. But that was one of the many advantages of going to a massive state run school with more money than you could shake a stick at. Tai felt a strange sense of pride as he watched Sora react to the place where he spent so much time.

At this point, very few of his teammates were still on the field, but the ones who remained were trying to catch his eye, many of them waggling eyebrows at him. He shot them warning glares that he hoped would keep them away, distantly wondering if he was being offensive. Ah, well, he could always smooth things over later.

Tai picked up the soccer ball he had left on the field and smiled at Sora. "Wanna play around a little?" he asked, blissfully unaware of the potential double entendre. Then he blinked and took a look at what she was wearing. She was donned in denim shorts, a pale blue lady fit tee, and a lightweight yellow cardigan. Tai was fairly confident that she could play soccer in that, quite forgetting, in his typical stupid male way, to check her footwear.

Sora stared at him for a moment, then smiled and stripped the cardigan, tying it around her waist. "You're on, Tai," she said slowly, speaking each word with care. Her eyes narrowed, and something within him rose to her look of challenge. He felt that familiar, arrogant grin spread across his face.

It didn't matter that she was the girl he liked. The moment the ball slipped from his fingers and touched the grass, she was an opposing force, and holding back was impossible. He sprang into full gear, kicking the ball and sprinting after it, blocking her attempts to intercede. Sora produced a sound of mixed surprised and admiration, and then she was beside him once more, and, even if he could turn off all of his sensory input, he would have known that she was there.

He couldn't say how long they danced and lunged around each other, fighting for dominance, scrambling over the black-and-white sphere darting about on the ground. All he really knew was that with each passing moment, the electric current running between them seemed to grow stronger and stronger, until he could estimate how far apart they were without looking. He had never felt so hyper-aware of anyone in his entire life. They were both panting with effort, and his muscles were straining and protesting. Sweat was beading and running down his back and forehead, forming a liquid sheen over his tanned skin, and every time their bodies touched, he felt a strange jolting sensation in his gut.

Playing sports had never felt so sexual in his entire life, and he was incredibly grateful that his blood was desperately needed for the circulation of oxygen at the moment. Otherwise, he might have found himself in an awkward situation, especially given the fact that he was wearing red athletic shorts.

He couldn't say which one of them gave in first. They seemed to slow down simultaneously, and soon they had both come to a complete stop, doubled over and gasping for breath. Tai sank to his ass, sitting in the middle of the field on the soft grass, and Sora followed suit, collapsing onto her back.

For a long time, they just breathed, neither of them speaking. Then, finally, Sora rolled over, and he had never found a sweaty, red-faced human being so attractive in his life.

"Well, Tai," she said, wiping her forehead with her inner forearm, "color me impressed."

"Same," he said, grinning toothily, and her eyes sparkled in response.

"I've played your game, Tai," she continued, moving her eyes to the puffy white clouds above. "Would you be interested in playing mine with me this Sunday morning?"

"Tennis?" Tai asked, trying his best to keep his voice even and of a moderate level of interest. "Can't say I've ever tried it, but I wouldn't mind giving it a shot. I don't have any equipment, though."

"Leave that to me." Sora sighed and sat up, groaning with the effort, a sound that stirred up some of Tai's baser instincts, despite his muscle fatigue.

_Don't react. Don't pump your fist. Stay cool. _But, as they stood and made their way back to the dorm, Tai couldn't repress a single fist pump. Thankfully, he was trailing behind Sora slightly, and she didn't notice it.

Another Day

Joe and Amy were standing at their fume hood in their lab facility. The perimeter of the room was lined with them, with two students per hood. The center of the room was occupied by tables bearing lab equipment, as well as places to sit and work on the weekly lab quizzes.

Joe watched with apprehension as Amy worked a Bunsen burner. A tiny blue flame popped into life, rapidly turning scarlet and orange as she adjusted the cylinder below the flame. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail, but, still, it was so long… Well, really, a lab didn't always seem like the safest environment for Amy in the first place… Trying to keep an eye on her and their experiment took a toll on Joe's nerves.

But he couldn't deny that she had talent in the lab. This was only their third lab, and the TA had already made a habit of visiting their fume hood and checking their progress. Two weeks ago, Amy filtered a clear, yellow liquid from their product, then picked up the lab notebook and frowned. She fretted over the vial, saying that it was _saffron_, rather than the _yellow_ color specified in the instructions. Admittedly, he didn't know the difference, so she grabbed the TA, who was already flustered from students asking why their solutions were light brown.

"_Finally_," she had breathed, reaching blissfully for the vial. Then, she had proceeded to show it to the entire class, as if to point out that this could, in fact, be done properly using the guidelines and tools they had been provided with. It was both embarrassing and gratifying, but it proved to have its definite downsides.

One of them was that the other kids kept coming to them for help now, even if they had never said a word to them in their lives. Currently, they were trying to both purify a product and then identify it, and they didn't have time to babysit the others. A male student approached Amy with his lab book in hand, grinning in a way that he doubtlessly found winning. Joe cringed as the boy worked his way into her personal space, then leaned in to ask a question. Amy jerked backwards, and her hand bumped into the Bunsen burner. It began to tip, and, if it fell, the flame would fall directly on her other hand.

Joe lunged towards it, slamming the side of his face into the glass surrounding the hood. His hand landed on the base of the burner, and he pressed it back down against the work surface beneath the hood, sighing with relief as he felt it connect with the solid plane.

The moment he registered that everything would be alright, he rounded on Amy, who was backing into him. "Amy!" he scolded. She whirled around, and her eyes were wide and frightened. "You _need _to be more careful, Amy. A lab is a dangerous environment. You almost knocked the Bunsen burner onto your hand, and you didn't even notice!"

The color drained rapidly from her face. "I'm so sorry, Joe. Thank you for saving me." Her eyes flicked to his cheek, and Joe realized that it was stinging faintly from the impact with the glass. Concern flashed through her eyes, and her hand twitched towards his face. "Are you alright?" she asked.

Joe took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Amy needed the scolding, as far as he was concerned, but she didn't need the panic and annoyance he was raining down on her. "I'm fine," he said evenly.

The boy was still hovering behind her, so Joe looked him in the eye and frowned. "Could you please _not _give my lab partner a heart attack?" he asked, venting his sour emotions on him. Joe wasn't particularly worried about being disliked by this guy; the fewer people who came to them for every difficulty, the better.

"Chill, man," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just trying to ask a question."

"The TA's over there," Joe said, glancing in the young woman's direction. "We don't have much time left to finish our experiment, so, if you'll excuse us…" The boy directed an imploring look at Amy, but she, bless her, was already clamping a Florence flask above the Bunsen burner. The boy frowned and left.

"He's going to be mad," Amy whispered, not looking away from the clamp.

Joe rolled his eyes and picked up his lab notebook. "You can't please everyone, Amy. All that matters to me right now is our grade. Besides, you nearly just got seriously burned, and he didn't even bat an eyelash. Do you really want to help him?"

"Point," Amy muttered, tipping her head in his direction. "Ahhh, crap, we need to do some calculations here, don't we…"

"I did them already," Joe said, handing his work over. Amy's eyes glanced down it, and she worried her lower lip.

"Explain it to me later?" she asked, frowning at the numbers. Joe was already familiar with her difficulties in math. That was why he did all of the calculations in the lab, then went over them with her afterward.

"No problem."

"Thanks. The desiccator has been running for long enough; will you get our product?" Since she was engaged with measuring out a liquid, he nodded and went to one of the tables in the center of the room.

The desiccator was an instrument shaped vaguely like a large tea pot. Glancing through the clear lid, Joe could see that their product had turned into dry crystals, so he released the vacuum, causing a long, loud hissing sound. Once the hissing stopped, he picked up the desiccator and began to puzzle over how to remove the lid.

"You know," Amy called over her shoulder, "Mimi ordered me to swap numbers with you the other day."

"Did she?" Joe asked, grinning slightly. "So, what will you do?"

"You're joking, right? I have no desire to cross Mimi." Joe would have laughed, but he was getting annoyed at the stupid desiccator. The lid seemed to be sealed to the bottom piece, and he was worried about pulling to hard. Their product was laying in a precarious pile on a piece of filter paper; if he disturbed the instrument too much, he would risk endangering their work.

"Speaking of which," Amy continued, her voice muffled somewhat as she reached into the hood, "I think you had better watch your step, Joe."

Joe whipped his head up, giving all of his attention to her back. "W-w-what?" he gasped. Being in trouble with Mimi was _not _on his priority list. For one, he desperately wanted her to like him. And he had _not _forgotten the mixture of malice, sensuality, and glee in her voice when she dangled that straightening iron in front of Izzy's face.

"Yeah," she called. "Lately, she keeps talking about how a man should make his intentions clear and step up to the base… I think she meant plate. Sports metaphors aren't really her thing, you know. Although I believe she has a rather interesting take on the whole 'first, second, third base, and home' thing…"

Joe was no longer listening. His skin suddenly felt cold and clammy. _Make his intentions clear… Step up to the plate… _For a long moment, Amy's words, uttered so infuriatingly cheerfully and conversationally, despite their importance, echoed about in his brain. Then, something fizzled and popped inside of him, like a light bulb suddenly blowing.

"Does… When a girl says that, does she mean that she wants to be… She wants me to ask her to date me?"

"I don't know what it means to other girls," Amy said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry," Joe said hastily. This information was important enough that he was willing to humor her, even though she was being a little crazy.

Amy turned away from the hood, mouth open to reply, but her eyes went wide, and she jumped towards him. "Joe! Hold the desiccator level!" Joe glanced at the forgotten instrument in his hands and gasped. It was at an angle, and their product was in danger of slipping off the filter paper and falling into the grate, lost to them forever. He quickly corrected it.

"Let me see that, please," she said, walking up to him and taking the instrument. Her fingers worked their way around the perimeter of the lid, and she found a latch that he hadn't noticed. Then she handed the desiccator to him, eased the lid off, and gingerly lifted the filter paper and the product off of it. "Whew," she muttered, walking slowly back to the hood. "I think we're okay."

Joe sat the instrument down and went to join her. "I'm sorry. And after snapping at you for inattention just a few minutes ago…" He felt like a schmuck now, which, sadly, he was well accustomed to.

"No harm done," Amy said dismissively. "I probably shouldn't have brought that topic up during a lab…" She began to worry her lower lip, then sighed and tilted her head. "I think that is what Mimi's implying, by the way. That she feels like it's about time for you to ask her out."

Joe fought down the choking noise that was clawing its way up his throat. Panic flooded his chest, like water bursting from a dam. "It seems so soon..!" he gasped, rubbing his forehead. Why was it suddenly difficult to breathe…?

Amy turned towards him and raised an arched brow. "Joe..." she began gently. "This is college, you know? You're, what, eighteen?" She waited for his nod of agreement before continuing. "It's not uncommon for strangers to go home together from a party and- Well, let's just say that asking Mimi on an official date after almost four weeks isn't exactly a rush."

Joe cleared his throat and made a hedging noise, unable to say anything else. He slowly became aware that Amy was fidgeting and glancing this way and that. He was just about to ask her what was wrong when she took a deep breath and turned to him.

"This isn't any of my business," she muttered. "I'm sorry. But… Mimi is… She's really important to me, Joe. You're a good person. I like you. I respect you. But… If you make her unhappy, I'm prioritizing her. I won't want to be your lab partner or study with you anymore. I won't want you around. And, I have to be honest, I would have no idea how to retaliate, but…" Her eyes caught his, and, for a moment, they were hard and steely. For a fleeting second, Joe almost believed that she could summon some otherworld being to punish him should he err. A memory of Izzy comparing Amy to an elf, of attributing hypothetical mystical powers to her, floated across his mind.

She never completed her sentence. She didn't need to.

And then her eyes were all warmth and good humor again. "Hand me that beaker, will you?" she said, holding a hand out absently. Joe hastened to oblige her. They worked in silence for a few minutes, until Joe chuckled idly.

_Izzy would be so mad if he found out that he got threatened with castration by flat iron, and I got a look. In fact, I just may tell him, someday._

Yet Another Day

Amy was walking besides Matt in the PAC, and they were making their way out of the building after their intro to voice class. She was listening to him discuss the various bands he had checked out lately, trying to find the right one to join, and she really was attending. She was. But her thoughts blanked entirely when they passed the cafe tucked into the back corner of the lobby.

Antigone was sitting in one of the plastic chairs, sipping coffee, eating a salad, and reading a thin book that was probably a script. _No, _Amy amended in her mind, _not Antigone. Shauna. Shauna Cross. _Without willing or realizing it, she came to a complete stop, forgetting about everything around her until someone tapped her shoulder.

"Amy. What's with you? You look star struck." Matt glanced into her face, frowned thoughtfully, then followed her gaze. "You're completely staring at that girl," he whispered, half laughing into her ear. "See something you like?"

"Oh, stop that," Amy chided, smacking his shoulder without heat. "Remember that play you helped me find the other day? She was in it. She was _amazing_. I kind of want to talk to her, but is that weird?"

Matt's eyes widened a tad. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed gently. "Go. Make friends. Mush!"

"But, Matt, what am I supposed to say?" Amy whined, wringing her hands.

Matt snorted and rolled his eyes. "Please. We're all performance artists. You know how much we like being praised. And once you get talking, you know you'll be all 'blah blah blah blah' and entirely forget that you were ever nervous. So, _go_. I'm leaving. Go." He walked backwards for a few steps, giving her a look that said she had better not follow him, then turned and was gone.

Feeling oddly abandoned, Amy sighed and slowly approached the actress. Once she was at her table, she began to shift slightly, and the girl looked up at her. She flicked her dark, sensual eyes carelessly towards her face, looking every bit the put-upon celebrity. _Mistaaaake_, Amy thought grimly, but she was too far in to back out now.

"Hi," she opened lamely. "Sorry to bother you. It's just, I saw you as Antigone the other day? And you were _amazing_. I mean, seriously, I was captivated. I've seen professional plays before, and there's hardly ever anyone as good as you, and you're so young! I-" Suddenly, she realized that she was overdoing it, and she stepped back mentally, trying to reign herself in. "I really enjoyed it."

Slowly, Shauna lowered the coffee to the table and put down her script. Amy's eyes roved over the text, and saw that it was for _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. She fought to keep from reacting. She _loved _that play.

"I didn't think anyone actually went to those. It wasn't an actual show." Shauna tilted her head, and her bob moved with it, tilting away from her face. Amy cleared her throat. It was oddly difficult to think with those eyes focused on her. They made her… itch, somehow.

_Stars, _Amy thought, fighting to keep her expression normal. _This girl has got 'it.' Whatever it is. That thing that makes someone gripping and irresistible effortlessly. _"I was here, and I had some time to kill, so I figured, why not?"

The girl nodded. "I know how that is. I feel like I practically live here." She nudged the chair opposite of her backwards with her foot, inviting Amy to sit, so she sat her backpack down and slid into it. "What flavor of performance artist are you?" she asked, picking at her salad.

"Vocalist," Amy said. Shauna chewed slowly, swallowed, and smiled. There was something Amy couldn't name in her expression. It was almost mischief, but… not quite.

"You any good?" Shauna asked casually. Understanding swept through Amy. This was challenge, competition, sizing each other up. Even though they weren't involved with the same art, they were still the same basic sort of creature, and the feelings were still faintly applicable. But, still, it was something Amy didn't bother with. In all honestly, she knew she probably should be more competitive, but it wasn't in her nature to put thought into what other people were up to.

But she was honest, and there was only one honest answer to that question. "Yes." There was no challenge or bragging in her tone; it was if Shauna had asked her if she was wearing shoes.

The actress gave her a long, assessing look, as if she didn't quite understand what she was seeing. "How good?"

Amy shrugged, unwilling to brag, but also unwilling to sell herself short. She could sense that her simple, to-the-point answers were intriguing the other girl, so she continued along that line, hoping that she wasn't being conceited. "Better than most professionals. Just like you."

Shauna's dark eyes widened. She leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and laughed, a husky, attractive sound that sent a tiny shiver up Amy's spine. _Oh, Mimi, _Amy thought, fighting not to grit her teeth, _why have you put so much effort into making me see other women as sexual creatures? This is your fault. _But, then, it could just be that, like Mimi, Shauna's attractiveness and sensuality was so great that it transcended the bounds of orientation. _Or maybe I'm bi, _Amy amended. _Occam's razor. Parsimony. The simplest solution is often the correct one. I should really think about this later…_

"You know," Shauna said, leaning towards her, "in a way, I have been paid to act before." Her lips settled into a smirk. "Does that make me a professional?"

"In a way?" Amy echoed, unsure of what to make of that. Shauna's smirk morphed into a full-on grin, but she shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, nevermind." She held a hand out. "I'm Shauna Cross. What's your name?"

Amy slipped her hand into Shauna's, trying to ignore the vast difference in their skin tones. Normally, she enjoyed being moonlight pale, but something about the mocha hue of Shauna's skin was so glamorous and trendy… Thankfully, her mind quickly dismissed the comparison as non-important. "Amy Donahue. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shauna released her with a delighted laugh. "So polite! You may be too gentle for the stage, Amy." She shook her head, but she was smiling, removing any real sting from the words.

"Being gentle never hurt anyone," Amy said, not bothering to get ruffled. This wasn't the first time someone was saying something like that to her, and it wouldn't be the last. Sweet, foolish creature that she was, she believed that talent and passion would get her further than ruthlessness and cunning.

Shauna shook her head, still smiling. "But it never helped."

"As you will," Amy said, trying to indicate that she wasn't interested in arguing. Shauna blinked and leaned back in her chair, suddenly studying her. The way her eyes went unfocused and averted seemed to indicate that she was thinking. "Is something the matter?" Amy asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"No, no," Shauna said, making a graceful, dismissive hand gesture. "Something about what you just said reminded me of someone I know, is all. Someone I was just thinking about, actually…" Amy's expression must have gone blank and confused, because Shauna glanced up at her and blinked. "Nevermind, it's not important. I didn't mean to zone out on you. And, listen, I hate to send you away, but I need to have a scene of this memorized by my next class." Shauna tapped the script in front of her with a blood red, perfectly manicured fingernail.

"Oh!" Amy said, rising from the chair. "I didn't realize… Sorry to bother you. I'll be on my way. It was nice talking to you."

"Don't apologize," Shauna said, shaking her head and laughing. "You are just _adorable_, you know that? I'm sure I'll be seeing you around. In fact, you be sure to come to this," she said, raising the script. "You like Shakespeare?"

"The bard is my homeboy," Amy said solemnly, and Shauna stared at her for a moment, then burst out into long, unbridled laughter.

"Oh, God, you're fun. See you later, Amy."

"Bye!" Amy said, smiling and picking up her backpack.

_See, Matt, _she thought as she bounced down the lobby's many stairs. _I can do this making friends thing as well as the next person._

**Author's Note: **Oh, Amy. No. _No_. No, Amy. _Stop it_.

Don't tell your secrets to Amy, guys. Or, rather, if you ever say something sensitive to her, make sure you point out that it needs to stay hush. If you do, you're fine. If you don't? The person you least want to know that information will know it before you can say, "Hey, that was a secret, what the crap!"

Hmm, we need more Izzy and Mimi up in here… I leave Izzy out for two chapters, and I start to miss him. Oh, also, read that conversation with Shauna and Amy carefully… There are lots of subtle overtones there that will make you groan later.


	14. Drama Llamas

**Author's Note: **Today's chapter is rated D for dramaliscious. Or just drama. I dunno, whatever. Enjoy!

Sora stared at Matt over the edge of her menu. It was another one of those dates that no one acknowledged as a date. All the pieces were in place; they were alone, they were having dinner, the restaurant was dimly lit, but no one was doing or saying anything that would move the encounter to the next level. It was one of those places that sold American food and had random paraphernalia all over the walls. They were seated at a booth for two, a space so intimate that their legs kept brushing beneath the table. A globe shaped lamp provided what little light was to be had, and drifting autumn leaves covered its outer surface.

"You're staring," Matt accused, not lifting his eyes from his menu. "See something you like?" Sora couldn't see the lower half of his face from this angle, but she could envision his smirk perfectly well. As always, she felt a faint, thrumming sensation work its way through her in response to his cockiness. It was equal parts pleasure and a rising sense of challenge. If he was going to be impossible, than she could be, too. And she loved that freedom to step back from her normal, overly mature self.

"The dessert on the back cover of your menu looks amazing," she responded lightly. And, when his eyes flickered to hers, wide with surprise, she licked her lips. His leg twitched violently against hers, and she could no longer hold back the smile tugging at her cheeks. Matt cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

_If only Mimi could have seen that, _she thought, somewhat wistfully. _She would be so proud. _Sora had made fast friends with Mimi. She responded well to her playfulness and confidence, and wished that she could learn from it. Mimi had immediately accepted her as one of 'her girls,' as she put it, but Sora was still slowly working on slipping past Amy's shell of cheerful -but meaningless- friendliness and misdirection.

But those thoughts weren't really helpful at the moment. What Sora wanted right now was to shift this evening into a more… Well, out of the so-called 'friend-zone,' where she felt like she had become quagmired. She and Matt had been dancing around romance for nearly a month now, each of them feeling the other out, trying to decide if it was worth taking that dangerous first step. It was like a game, an infuriatingly wonderful game. And, despite the fact that Matt was sometimes impossible and frustrating, despite the fact that he sometimes lied through his teeth and shrugged off the importance of other people and their emotions, despite the fact that he hid the core of himself behind a wall of indifference… She wanted him. For every bad point about him, there were at least five good ones, and some of his problem areas were already softening under the influence of someone who called him out on them.

The trouble was, Sora didn't know how to naturally shift the conversation into a more romantic direction. Was it alright to just blurt out a question about his love life? Should she bring up hers? Without realizing it, she began to shift her feet around, quite forgetting that Matt could feel the movement in the tiny booth.

She began to feel someone watching her, and she glanced up and directly into Matt's piercing, icy blue eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked, and his voice was low and gentle. He folded his menu, placed it on the table, and reached for her, slowly running his fingertips over her knuckles. For the first time, Sora noticed the calluses on his digits, tiny, hardened spots that tickled her just a little.

"I'm fine," she answered, and Matt raised one of his eyebrows and smiled, shaking his head slightly. _Tell me another one_, his face seemed to say, and she felt herself coloring. It seemed like Matt was starting to learn how to catch her at lying, as well.

Sora averted her face, sighed, and pulled her legs in, trying to get some air in a space that had suddenly grown stuffy. The waitress chose that moment to appear, and they gave their drink orders. The young woman placed her hand on Matt's shoulder as he told her what he wanted, but, if he noticed her invading his personal space, he gave no indication. She hovered by their booth for a while before walking slowly away, glancing back over her shoulder twice, looking awed and distinctly interested.

_Wow, _Sora thought, watching the waitress leave. _I almost forgot how handsome he is. _Somewhere along the line, Sora had finally succeeded in seeing Matt as a normal guy, no different than, say, Tai. This was largely due to watching him try to be impressive and cool, which was such a stupid, typically male thing to do that it humanized him. But the reality of it was that he _was _a pretty incredible person, and now she wasn't sure if shifting her image of him had been a good idea. Was it alright to forget the size of the fish she was attempting to reel in?

But Matt was still giving her that infuriatingly knowing look, and he was going to think she had gone completely insane if she didn't acknowledge him soon. She said the first thing that came to her mind, which happened to be the truth. "I'm sorry. I just... I want to ask you something personal, and I'm not sure how to say it, or if I even should."

Matt smiled and leaned back into the cushy seat of the booth. "Oh, is that all?" he said, and his lean, slightly muscular frame relaxed completely. "You had me worried for a second, there. You can ask me anything." He lifted one of his arms and balanced his elbow on the top surface of the back of the booth. This left his fingers trailing idly and attractively through his meticulously messy hair. _Does he do that on purpose? _Sora wondered. _Act like he's always posing for a photo shoot. Or is he just so good looking that it always seems like someone should be taking his picture? _Maybe she would work up the courage to ask him, someday, but she wasn't sure if it would be worth it. She already knew him well enough to guess that he would act like he had no clue what she was talking about, regardless of the actual answer.

Sora gave herself a mental shake, trying to focus back in. The waitress returned with their drinks, lingering by Matt's side, using his shoulder to steady herself as she sat his cup in front of him. But, miraculously, Matt still didn't react, didn't indulge himself in a glance down her shirt, which had two more open buttons than it had the last time she stopped by their table. His gaze remained on her eyes, clearly still waiting for her answer.

Once the waitress was gone, Sora cleared her throat and began to twiddle her fingers nervously. "Uh... Would you be insulted if I asked you about your love life?" she asked, and the words came out in something of a rush. Matt's stupid eyebrow flew right back up. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Sora added hastily.

"I don't mind answering," he answered lightly, shrugging a little and working the surprise off of his face. Then he shifted in his seat, leaning towards her and entwining his fingers on the surface of the table. "I'm single. I assumed you already knew. You're the same, right? Amy said something about it. I think she was teasing me."

Sora nodded and began to tap her foot. She was fairly sure that she knew what Matt was implying here. If Amy was going around telling him that she was single, then he must have indicated to Amy that he was interested in her. Suddenly, it was far, far too hot in the restaurant, and her skin took on a red, flushed hue so prominent that she could see it on her arms. _Stop it! _she ordered her body, as if she had some way of controlling its autonomous reactions. _Don't read too much into it! You might be misunderstanding something!_

She took a deep breath, then sighed when the waitress approached again to take their order. The young woman tried to start a conversation with Matt, but he gave such succinct, brusque answers that she gave up before long. Sora hid a smile with her palm. It was as if Izzy were sitting opposite of her, completely oblivious to the attention of the people around him, and slightly annoyed at what he did register. Her smile grew as she wondered what Amy would say if she told her that Izzy spent enough time in their room for her to have a fairly good picture of his behavior.

When they were finally alone again, Sora crossed her arms and forced her body to relax. "I am single, yes." She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steel herself to say something bold, but Matt beat her to the punch.

"What kind of guy do you like?" he asked, putting his elbow on the table and resting his cheek in his upturned palm. Sora blinked at him, eyes wide and wild with astonishment. She had planned to ask him what his type was, too. She hugged her upper body, unsure of how to answer.

"I... I don't really know," she said at last. "Don't laugh, but... I've never had a boyfriend."

Matt's face slipped from his palm, and he plummeted towards the table for a split second before he caught himself. He grimaced when he regained his balance, clearly embarrassed by his lack of grace. "I don't believe you," he said through clenched teeth. "_You_, never having a boyfriend? You're far too-" He broke off suddenly, then began to rub the back of his neck. "You must have driven the boys crazy."

Sora turned her head and furrowed her brow, completely unable to decide what to make of that. "That would be the pot calling the kettle black," she pointed out at last, and Matt shifted and shrugged.

"Eh. I dated a few girls in high school, but never seriously." He made a dismissive hand motion that Sora was starting to deeply associate with both him and Amy. She wondered which of them had picked it up from the other.

Sora frowned and ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the table. "May I ask why not?" she said gently. She wasn't sure what to make of this, either. It could simply imply that Matt hadn't clicked with any of those girls. Or, more dangerously, it could mean that he saw them all as amusements. And she refused to be _anyone's_ amusement. Her brow fell heavily over her eyes.

She could feel Matt shifting his legs beside hers. He sighed and held his hands out. "We weren't looking for the same thing," he said cryptically. His eyes went unfocused, as if he were seeing something in the air between them.

"What were you looking for?" she asked, too desperately curious to realize that she was prying. Awareness flooded back into Matt's expression. He began to rub the back of his neck again, and he glanced away from her, a perfect picture of discomfort. Sora opened her mouth, intending to retract the question, but he held a hand out to her, palm-forward.

"It's okay. I don't mind answering. I just..." He cleared his throat and sat up straight, crossing his arms and giving her a rare, serious expression. She swallowed hard, wondering if he had any idea how sexy he looked with his eyes slightly hard and his mouth slightly grim. "Don't laugh, okay? I don't usually talk about this kind of thing."

"I won't," she breathed, forgetting that she should close the topic and move on to something lighter. She leaned closer to him, resting her forearms against the table, too fascinated to realize how close they were, now.

Matt breathed slowly, deeply, from the diaphragm, which Sora now knew was a singing thing. "I want someone who really gets me, and who likes what they find," he said, glancing aside and coloring slightly. "For a long time... God, this is going to make me sound like a teenage girl," he complained, frowning and staring at the swirling pattern on the table. His voice was tight and strained.

Sora reached for him and shook her head fiercely. Amy's voice floated through her mind, bemoaning the fact that Matt so rarely let anyone in past his cool, collected, slightly arrogant exterior. Matt grinned ruefully, but his eyes remained doubtful.

"I've always been good looking," he said bluntly, and Sora fought down a laugh. It was surreal to hear him say it so bluntly. People usually danced around that sort of thing, didn't they? "Again, I know this will make me sound ridiculous, but, ever since I was a kid, girls took one look at me and acted like they were in love. And, by the time my band got pretty big, it just got ridiculous. Those girls I dated? I could have treated them like shit, and they wouldn't have thought any less of me. They still would have wanted to be with me. But it was just because I was a handsome musician. I took a few girls on dates, ones that I either found attractive or that I thought could care enough to try to actually get to know me, but, as far as they were all concerned, they already knew all they would ever want to. So... I dumped them all." He met her eyes fiercely. "I will _not _be someone's accessory, or their trophy. I want to be someone's _partner. _I want to…"

Sora tilted her head and shifted even closer, as if her nearness would draw out the end of Matt's trailing sentence. At this point, he was entirely red, and there were even a few beads of sweat on his forehead. _This is so difficult for him_, Sora realized, and, suddenly, her heart was constricting and straining in her breast. She slid her hands over his,which had formed tight fists on the table. His eyes were looking anywhere but at her face.

"I want to love and be loved." Sora's hands closed around his automatically as she absorbed his words, and, for a moment, she could sense understanding and acceptance flowing between them. Then, Matt drew back, grimaced, crossed his arms, and stared at the ceiling. "_God_, I sound like some kind of after school special. Or the werewolf character in a trashy teenage girl porn novel." Tenseness tightened his body, made his legs go rigid against hers. He tried to laugh at his joke, but any signs of amusement died after the first snorting chuckle.

There was a long silence, and Sora was aware that he was watching her face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure what she thought of his speech herself, but she had to say something, so she let her breath form into words of its own volition, like clouds forming images in the sky.

"I understand where you're coming from," she began quietly, "and I like your final point. But, you don't exactly make it easy to get to know you. You complain that people aren't trying to see you for you, but then you put a front between yourself and everyone else. You can't have it both ways, Matt."

Matt's arms dropped from being crossed at his chest to laying limply at his sides. A muscle worked in his jaw. He opened his mouth, reconsidered, and closed it again. Sora paled, realizing that she had said something very rude, although she couldn't help but think that it was something that he needed to hear. But did she always have to elect herself as the bearer of unsettling-but-needed-news? She began to curse herself for drawing a heart felt speech from Matt, and then criticizing him.

"I'm sorry," she said, dropping her face into her hands. "That was so rude of me." She glanced through her fingers in time to see Matt stroke his chin thoughtfully.

"No," he said slowly. "No. I think... I think you may be right. Although... It's not nearly as much of a front as it used to be. I like that persona. And I feel like my original point still stands... Just, you know, maybe not as strongly as it did before." He laughed a little nervously, then ran his fingers through his immaculate hair, disturbing the styling from the roots. "Do you..." He glanced off to the side, cleared his throat, and started again. "Do you think less of me?"

"No, not at all," Sora said at once, and the warmth in her voice surprised even her. Matt examined her face carefully, and he must have accepted her words as truth, because he allowed himself one of his cocky smiles. Just like that, the atmosphere returned to normal, and Sora was so pleased that she hardly noticed the waitress as she sat their food in front of them.

For a while, they were quiet as they ate, attending to the sharpest pangs of their hunger before they got back into talking. Then, so suddenly that she almost tipped her drink over with surprise, Matt hopped right back into the previous subject. "You didn't say what you're looking for in a relationship. And why you didn't date in high school."

Sora sighed and took a long drink of water. Nerves suddenly wrangled in her chest, as loud and obnoxious as someone shaking an overladen keyring, but she couldn't very well ignore the question after pressing Matt for answers. There was nothing for it but to reciprocate. "Could you promise me that this conversation will remain between us? This is something I don't like to talk about. I don't mean to generalize, but westerners tend not to understand."

Matt's brow rose, and something like concern seemed to flash through his eyes. "Sure," he said, frowning quizzically. Sora grinned at his puzzled expression. It was funnier than she would have anticipated.

"Please, don't freak out," Sora began, putting her fork down, "and, please, don't judge. The reason why I asked to move in with my father and enroll in American schooling in middle school is because... My mother, in Japan... She expects me to take on her family's business, which entails learning ikebana- that's flower arrangement- and also marrying her business partner's son."

At which point, Matt dropped his fork, and it fell to the floor with a clattering sound. "I asked you not to freak out," Sora said faintly.

Matt rearranged his face into a neutral expression with visible effort. "I'm not. I'm calm," he said, but his voice was comically high. Sora smiled despite herself. She paused for a moment, giving him the opportunity to do what everyone did when they heard the phrase 'arranged marriage'- talk about how unfair and cruel her parents must be, without bothering to hear all of the facts or to ask her opinion on the manner. But Matt just watched her quietly, waiting for her to go on. Some of the tension dripped out of Sora's shoulders.

"First, about arranged marriages… I know they're uncommon and villainized in the states and in most European countries. But they're very common in other parts of the world, although the popularity is going down in Japan. And, overall, they seem to be equally successful or more successful than the average love marriage." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to think of another way to defend herself, not realizing that she was babbling.

"Sora," Matt said gently, and she opened her eyes reluctantly. "I understand. Different places have different ways of doing things. You don't have to… Uh, whatever it is you're doing. Relax." He gave her one of his cocky grins, and she latched on to it, used the familiar sensations it caused in her to return to a more normal emotional state. _Thanks, Matt, _she thought, and she smiled shyly at him in return.

"I'm glad you see it that way," she said honestly. "It gets old, trying to make people understand that I'm not being tortured with this. In fact, I'm not being forced to do anything. My mother isn't pressuring me. It's just an option I have. But, when I found out about it years ago, I decided that the best thing to do would be to go into the world and find out what other options I might have. I've watched my mother my whole life. I know what my world will be like if I follow the same path that she did."

"So you're having a look at other possible worlds," Matt summarized, and she nodded, feeling immensely grateful that he understood. "That sounds like a smart thing to do."

"Everyone's been very supportive," Sora said. "I'm very lucky. I know that what I would like to do is be a fashion designer, but… That's a difficult road. Not many people make it. At least I know that, if I fail, I have this other life waiting for me. And it's not a bad life. Ikebana is interesting, and the man I would be marrying is kind. And that's why I'm careful with my love life."

Matt sat back in the booth, clearly mulling over her words. "Because, if you fall in love, and it sticks, then… That option might be gone for you?"

"Yes," Sora said, nodding. Then, she summoned up all of her courage and looked him deliberately in the eye, doing her best not to shake or twitch, to keep her voice sounding normal. "But, I'm willing to be flexible if I find someone worth taking a chance on."

For a long moment, Matt stared at her, looking slightly shocked, then slightly mesmerized. His fingers drummed nervously on the table once or twice, but he forced them to stop. Then he leaned back, tipped his head at a compelling angle, and smiled, a smile of mixed arrogance, challenge, and boyish delight. Sora's stomach fluttered, causing a faint floating sensation that had her gripping the edge of the table for safety.

And, somehow, she knew that this wonderful, frustrating, compelling, infuriating game of theirs would soon be coming to an end.

Another Day

"So, that's when I remembered that mitochondria are transferred specifically from mother to child, and I was able to get the extra credit question right." Amy smiled to herself, happily paging through her open biology textbook to double check some information. She was killing time between classes with Shauna at the PAC, cheerfully prattling about her first college midterm. She and Joe had completely flipped out preparing for it, spending hours together bent over their notes and textbooks, snapping at anyone who dared interrupt them, including Izzy, who had only tried a few times before leaving them alone, but the actual test had turned out to be much easier than anticipated. So far, it seemed that she had answered everything correctly, right down to the extra credit questions.

"Oh, God." Amy glanced up at the exasperated sound of Shauna's voice, and she colored, realizing that she might be bragging. She hadn't meant to, but she did that sometimes. After working so hard to prepare for a test, she couldn't help but want to talk about how well she had done, but she should have known better. People didn't want to listen to this…

"You really do remind me of a guy I used to date sometimes," Shauna continued, and Amy breathed a sigh of relief. Reminding Shauna of someone was far preferable to insulting her by bragging. "He was such a _nerd_, you would not believe it." Shauna glanced up from her script and rolled her eyes.

"Ah," Amy said, grinning. "Yes, well, I'd be lying if I denied my geekiness. I have been known to geek out. I have the capacity to geek." If Shauna knew that she was quoting Scott Pilgrim, she gave no indication, and Amy sighed mentally at the lost opportunity.

Shauna drew back a little, her full lips contorting into a tiny, attractive frown. "Hmm... But, you still know how to talk to people. It isn't obvious right away that you're nerdy." Amy shrugged, growing slightly unsure of where this was going.

"I mean, just because I'm into geek culture doesn't mean that I have social difficulties. Although I guess it does mean that my pool of conversation topics with the average person is smaller, since I'm not into pop culture, television, or sports. Why, does it matter?" Amy was aware that some people looked down on nerdy types, but she didn't really understand why. She loved nerds like Izzy and Joe. They often had interesting things to say.

Shauna sat the script down and put her chin in her palm. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, looking faintly amused, although Amy wasn't entirely sure why. "It's just... This boy I dated? You would not _believe _him. Nerdiness just, like, _rolled _off of him, it was unbelievable." She shook her head and laughed, and the pair of expensive sunglasses perched on her head reflected sunlight shining through the pane of glass at her back.

Amy frowned and tilted her head. She was beginning to grow uncomfortable with the way Shauna was talking about this poor nerdy soul, but she wasn't sure if they were close enough for her to be able to safely request a change in subject. Instead, she asked a question that she hoped would make her understand Shauna's point of view. "If you dislike nerds so much, why did you date him?"

Shauna's smile transformed into a smirk. "Ah, well… There were… _Circumstances_." She whirled her wrists about delicately, theatrically, no doubt enjoying her small audience's attention.

_Cryptic much? _Amy thought, tipping her head. She cast about in her mind for potential interpretations of that remark, then asked about the one that seemed most likely. "He was really cute?" she guessed. She didn't approve of that as a reason to date someone, but she could see where a person could be drawn to another by attraction alone.

But Shauna leaned forward and laughed, long and loud, and that husky, throaty sound had Amy inching closer. Her own speaking voice was clear and sweet, like water tripping over stones, like a little bird darting about in flight, but Shauna's was warm and dark, like chocolate with a decadent percentage of cocoa. Finally, that laughter broke off, and Amy blinked and shifted back to her original position, slightly baffled by her own behavior.

"_God_, no!" Shauna gasped. "Maybe he could have been decent looking, if he gained some weight and grew a foot or so, or if he didn't always look so annoyed, but, I'm telling you, he was just like a little scarecrow." Amy edged away from her, fighting not to grimace, glancing left and right, as if to check if anyone was listening to them. Somehow, she didn't want to be noticed listening to someone say such cruel things about someone else. _That poor boy_, she thought, swallowing the sigh slipping up her throat.

But it only seemed to get worse. "Oh, and don't even get me started on his night moves," Shauna continued, and, by this point, she was trembling with contained mirth. She twirled her fingers through her thick, glossy black hair, smiling in a pitying sort of way.

"I'm not," Amy pointed out, nervously turning some pages in her textbook, searching for comfort in their familiar, glossy pages. She hid her face in them, hoping that Shauna would sense her discomfort and change the subject.

No such luck. "He was so… _mechanical_. No creativity. No passion." She closed her eyes briefly and shuddered, but her expression quickly morphed into a mixed look of slyness and pleasure. "Couldn't complain about his endurance, though."

_Woooow. Too much info, much? _Amy tried to clear the horrified look off of her face, which she could faintly see in the glass behind Shauna. "I'm not sure I understand," she said, moving her eyes back to a diagram of an enzyme reacting with a substrate. "If you didn't like him personally, and you weren't attracted to him, why did you sleep with him?"

There was a slight pause. "Amy. Sweetheart." Shauna's tone was sweet and warm, and Amy nearly dropped the book she was holding in response. Instead, she closed it and lowered it to her lap, then colored faintly as Shauna's mocha colored hands cupped her cheeks. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

Instantly, it seemed, heat flooded to her face. She wanted to be offended, to draw back with her nose raised in wounded dignity, but that wasn't in her nature. And, anyway, Shauna's eyes were staring straight into hers, and it was like staring into space, seeing flecks of dazzling light surrounded by inky darkness. And then there was her voice again, lulling, affectionate, carrying enticing whispers of the promise of unknown pleasures.

Her horrified, shamed denial died on her lips. She stared helplessly into Shauna's eyes, until the girl produced one of her low, enticing laughs and released her. "I thought so. If you weren't, maybe you'd understand." She winked, grinned, then drew away from her. "And he was a smart boy. I was able to teach him a few things."

There was a long pause, where Amy sat, dazed and overstimulated, completely unsure of how to behave. Shauna's eyes perused her script for a few minutes, and then she sighed and began to speak again, her voice more melancholy than Amy had ever heard it.

"But here's the weird thing. Sometimes? Sometimes, I miss him. He was good to me, in his way. Starting college, having this whole new life, it's hard and lonely sometimes, you know? I guess it can make you miss things you took for granted."

Amy made an indistinct sound in her throat. Her mind was still far too overwhelmed to function properly, but, dimly, she rather hoped that this mystery boy wouldn't find his way back to Shauna.

Another Day (Again)

It was a little after three, and Izzy was alone in his dorm room, grumpily working on a programming assignment. It was far too simple for his tastes, but required an enormous number of lines of code. It was busy work at its most infuriating, and his brain kept trying to shift its faculties to more demanding topics as he typed. So, the knock on the door was a welcome distraction, especially since there was a definite feminine gentleness to it.

But, halfway to the door, Izzy remembered that Joe was at his three hour lab period with Amy, which meant that his persistent, guitar-toting acquaintance was not at hand. Frowning slightly, Izzy put an eye to the peephole and saw Mimi. He sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead. He considered not answering, but Mimi would probably mention to Joe that she had missed him, and then Joe would answer that he should have been there to answer the knock. _Well, at least she isn't carrying anything that could potentially be turned into a torture device_, he thought darkly. He allowed himself a long, unsightly grimace before he rearranged his expression and opened the door.

"Hey, Izzy. Bothered to get the door, I see." She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled a little saucily. Izzy sighed and stepped out of the doorway.

"Mimi. I'm afraid Joe's not in at the moment." He kept his hand on the edge of the door, assuming that she wouldn't want to come in with Joe out. Apparently, this was something of a mistake; Mimi was staring at him and scowling.

"I know. He's in his orgo lab with Amy. Are you going to let me in, or what?" Izzy felt his brow rising.

"Did you need something from me?" he asked in a polite tone, moving out of the way and closing the door behind him. Mimi crossed her arms, stared down at him (she, like most people, including many girls, was taller than him), and furrowed her brow in a frustrated sort of way.

"Izzy, you _really _don't understand what it means to be social, do you?" There was a smacking sound, and Izzy realized that she was tapping something rectangular and flat against her hip. _Deuce! _he thought, backing up a step. _She is armed! _"I mean, do you think I'm going to stand idly by and let you date one of my girls if you can't even be nice to her friends?!"

Izzy stared blankly at her. There were so many things he wanted to correct about what she had just said that he didn't know where to begin. _I am being nice. I let you in, I'm listening. Just because I don't bend over backwards for you on sight like most men doesn't mean I'm unkind. Furthermore, Amy is in charge of choosing who she will spend her time with, not you. And, finally, dating Amy is not my end goal, thank you. _The words were all there in his head, but Mimi had a way of overloading his processing system with her bluntness and vivacity. All he was capable of doing was dropping his face into his palm and groaning quietly.

All at once, Mimi's posture changed, going from argumentative to touched. She approached him and put a delicate hand on his shoulder. "Aww, hey. I don't mean to discourage you. You obviously like her a lot; that gets you a lot of points. Just try not to be so... _prickly_."

Izzy lifted his head so quickly that something made a faint snapping sound in his neck. "I, I obviously _what_?!" he demanded, stepping back. Horror and panic bubbled in his stomach, instantly unsettling him. Mimi blinked, then pressed a hand to her mouth and giggled.

"Aww, you are so _shy_, Izzy! That's _adorable_!" She patted his head, as if he were a dog who had just sat down properly on command, and he immediately felt himself bristling. He wanted to say something, but she was oblivious to his emotional state, and already talking about something else. "And, look, just to show that there are no hard feelings, I brought you a present!" She held out the rectangle, and Izzy recognized it as a case for a homemade DVD.

_Don't show interest_, his mind demanded, but his curiosity spiked instantly. What kind of DVD could Mimi possibly want to show him? As far as he knew, they didn't have a single overlapping field of interest. His vexed feelings dripped away, and he reached for the DVD automatically, questions already making their way to his lips. "What is this? Has it been formatted properly for viewing on a computer?"

Mimi was smiling, clearly enjoying his intense interest in her offering. Izzy grimaced internally and tried to tone it down. "It should play on your computer. My old high school's drama department made it to sell to the kids, so they made sure to do it right. As for _what_... All four years of high school, Amy had a role in the spring musical with the drama club, although she didn't do the regular plays in the winter. She mailed me a copy of last two, which I missed because I had moved. This is the one from just a few months ago. They did _Beauty and the Beast. _She was Belle." Mimi drew herself up proudly, as if _she _had played Belle, and Izzy had to begrudgingly admit that he was starting to admire her devotion to her friends. But that thought was buried beneath another, more dangerous, one.

"She... She was in the drama club?" he asked, and he could feel something sinking and roiling within him. He had had his fill of actresses. And then some.

"Just half of the year," Mimi said, looking a bit confused at his sudden change in demeanor. "But, yeah. Anyway, you should watch this, so you can see how great she is, and then tell her allllll about it." Mimi winked, turned so that her skirt flared attractively, and stepped towards the door.

"Wait," Izzy called, and she froze and smiled, looking faintly pleased. Izzy realized that she found his sudden attention gratifying. "Thank you. And, may I ask why you've gone from threatening me to..." Izzy paused for a moment, unsure of how to label this encounter, but, apparently, Mimi got the general idea.

"You're welcome. And, I just like to keep people guessing!" She winked, and it seemed to signal that she was keeping her intentions to herself, and he had better accept that. "Be sure to give it back to me before the semester ends. I only have the one copy."

"Understood. Actually, I'll watch it now and return to you this evening." Maybe he could get through this asinine program faster with a secondary stimulus for his brain to absorb.

"No rush," Mimi said, shrugging. "See you!" Then she shut the door and was gone. Izzy stood, locked it, and went back to his computer. His clever fingers instantly found the DVD tray button on the tower, and he popped the case open and inserted the disk.

Soon, he was programming, stopping every once in a while to watch the play, mostly tuning it out when Amy wasn't singing. Although, the song in the beginning with the villagers drew some faint sounds of amusement from him ("Look, there she goes, that girl is strange, no question! Dazed and distracted, can't you tell?"). Her acting skills were alright, certainly good for a high school student just having some fun, but nothing that left any kind of impression, and that eased some of the tension that had been building in his gut. But, when she sang, he found himself unable to do anything but stare at her and listen. Her voice, her facial expressions, her passion, her ability to inject emotion into sound… He watched, dumbfounded, transfixed, hardly able to believe that this was the same girl he knew, the one who had snorted soda out of her nose when he walked off a cliff playing Mass Effect, then hopped around her dorm room, cradling her face and cursing creatively as the carbonation burned her sinuses. How could he reconcile this focused, confident, talented girl with the spacey, clumsy, often frightened one he knew?

After each of her songs, he shook his head, as if to forcibly return himself to the rational world, then programmed feverishly until the next one, his mind churning over the mystery of her stage presence. By the time the play ended, he was finished writing his code, and he watched idly as the thespians took their bows. Interestingly, the video continued after the stage was cleared, and it was clear that someone had taken the camera and captured parents and friends congratulating the actors. Izzy was curious to see who would greet Amy, so he gave it his full attention. She parted the curtain in the background, somewhere behind Gaston and his family in the foreground, and stepped shyly past it, walking towards the edge of the stage. Tai's bushy hair appeared in front of the camera, and the person filming adjusted the angle of the shot just in time to show Amy jumping down into his waiting arms. Tai's knees buckled under the sudden weight, but he held her up without any problems. He pulled her into a one armed hug and gave her a noogie, and she shrieked joyfully, smacking him ferociously to bat him off.

Matt appeared behind Tai, rolling his eyes and pulling his friend off of Amy, who was red-faced and gasping from laughing and scolding. Another blond, blue-eyed boy was walking beside Matt, holding hands with a brown haired girl who shared Amy's moonlight skin tone. Another boy was walking up behind them, and Izzy found his attention focusing on him. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers.

As the boy approached the camera, Izzy was able to have a good look at his face. His hair was sandy brown and curly, and his eyes were a piercing shade of ice blue, like a husky's. He had a prominent, square-shaped jaw, a long, straight nose, and a high, square forehead. A very masculine face, except, perhaps, for the thin lips, which were pulled back into a comically over-sized smile.

"Ames!" he cried, slipping his way past Matt and Tai. "You were incredible!" He swept her up in his arms, lifting her with an ease that had Izzy's brow rising. Suddenly, the little redhead noticed that this boy's build was quite similar to Tai's, except that he was thicker all over, as if he were built more for strength than speed. Amy made a surprised, frightened squeaking sound as her body pitched helplessly forward into his.

"Jerry!" she protested. He laughed and lowered her to the ground, and Izzy realized that his temper was edging up, although he wasn't entirely sure why. Jerry handed her the flowers, and she stared down into them, and Izzy wasn't quite sure how to interpret her expression. "Jerry- They're beautiful, and you're so thoughtful, but… I, I kind of feel like they got killed just to stroke my ego…"

_Of course_, Izzy thought, somewhat amused. _Amy's too gentle to want to watch something wither and die in a vase. Now, if she was going to eat it, I bet that would be another story… But to kill something for decoration… I suppose I can see where she's coming from_. But Jerry wasn't listening; his eyes were looking directly into the camera, now.

"Hey, Ames," he said, grinning and raising his eyebrows. "Check it out! We're on camera!" And, so saying, he pulled her in and moved his face close to hers. At the last second, she turned her head, so that his kiss fell a few inches to the side of her mouth. She averted her eyes and shyly tried to look away from the camera, but Jerry's hold on her was too firm.

And then the person behind the camera wandered over to the beast and his family.

The world was turning black around the edges, and Izzy watched as if from a great distance, slightly mystified. Suddenly, he realized that he wasn't breathing, and he pushed his chair back far enough to put his head between his knees. He took a few deep, steadying breaths, staying still until his vision returned to normal. By the time he was sitting up again, he realized that he was faintly nauseous. He kept trying to push back the inevitable conclusion, but, at this point, there was no more denying the knowledge that had been fermenting in the back of his mind.

This Jerry was the bastard who had hurt Amy.

Izzy stood, popped the DVD out of the tray, grabbed the case, and half ran out of the dorm room. He had to talk to Mimi. _Now_.

**Author's Note: **I was told, and quite correctly so, that not everyone has spent half of their life cooped up in a laboratory, and that people might not know what a Bunsen burner, fume hood, Florence flask, and desiccator are (I clone bacterial genes for a living). That's my bad, guys. I'm sorry, I should have been more aware of that. A Bunsen burner is a cylindrical device hooked up to a gas source that produces a small, easily controlled flame. A fume hood is a working surface (a table) with a glass window that separates the user from the table. Only your hands go under the glass. A vent system sucks up dangerous fumes from the chemicals you are working with, so that they do not harm the scientist. A Florence flask is a round flask that allows a liquid to be heated uniformly. A desiccator is pretty self explanatory… it desiccates (dries out) your sample, removing water from it. And it's REALLY hard to get the freaking lid off, since they often work by applying a vacuum… True story, one of my lab partners once pried the lid off with too much force, causing our product to slip through the grate… NOOOO!

Right, does anyone need help with their bio or chem homework, hahaha?

Ahem, yes, now. Sorry this chapter is so... DRAMATIC. I promise some fluff next time. Please, look forward to some bonding between Izzy and Amy, some excitement between Sora and Matt, and some awkwardness on the part of Joe.

Oh, guys, question! Do you guys think this story should be labeled drama/humor? I think that's what I set it to, but I'm wondering if it should be romance/drama or romance/humor or... Who even knows. Thoughts? You'd think I'd know what I'm writing. But no.

Another question! Did I write Matt too girly? I see him as being really romantic and emotional, but being embarrassed by it, which I hope I communicated. Thoughts?

Thank for reading, see you next time! There may be a slight delay; I am updating Growing Up With You next (I'm starting to miss 12-year-old Koushiro, he's so much sweeter than my pessimistic, grown up Izzy, hahaha!).


	15. Platonic?

**Disclaimer: **Ryo Hiraki belongs to Aveza, and can be enjoyed in the story The Center of Everything. He's not my character, and is used with Aveza's gracious permission.

**Author's Note: **Okay, so I lied last time. Today's chapter is a long, rambling look at a day in the life of Izzy and Amy. We'll get to Sora/Matt and Joe/Mimi next time. While you read, please keep in mind this question... This is very much a laid back post, almost like following Izzy around with a camera as he just goes about his day, and I want to know if you enjoyed it.

_**VERY IMPORTANT INFO:**_ Unless I change my mind at some point, the next chapter will include mature content. This means that, if you find my story updates by looking at the newest Digimon updates, you **WILL NOT SEE** the next chapter unless you set your filter to allow mature content. If you want to make sure that you don't miss the rest of my updates, please either follow this story or follow me. Otherwise, you'll only find future updates if you set your search filter to allow mature content, or if you manually check my profile. Thanks, and enjoy this update :)

Izzy flew up a level of stairs in the dorm, hardly seeing where he was going. Was it possible that his answers could be so close? Was it moral to receive them from Mimi, rather than from Amy? _One question can't hurt, _his fevered mind seemed to whisper. _If she doesn't want to say anything, then that will be the end of it. _

He wandered through the hallway, certain that Mimi had mentioned her room number over a group dinner in the cafeteria at some point, but he, of course, had not been listening. If memory served, he had been scribbling on a napkin, his head bent beside Amy's, her long hair tickling his nose as he showed her how to work a calculus problem. At least he had caught her floor number.

Mimi wasn't a very common name, so he knocked on the first door labeled with it, not really realizing that his eyes were wild and that his mad dash had already drawn a few beads of sweat to his forehead. A stranger opened the door, worked her eyes over him, and sighed. "Mimi," she called over her shoulder, sounding deeply annoyed. "There's another lovestruck boy for you."

A dainty, musical laugh drifted from within the room, and Izzy knew at once that he had the right place. _I wonder if Joe is aware of how much competition he has, _Izzy wondered darkly. _Is the kind of thing that I should inform him of, or is it kinder to say nothing? _But those thoughts would have to wait; Mimi was approaching her door.

"Izzy! What are you doing here, looking half crazy?" she cried, spreading her arms and filling the portal with her body. The sun was beginning to set behind her, flooding yellow-orange light into her room, providing seraphic backlighting for her to stand in. But, for once, he allowed her her theatrics without mental comment.

"I watched the DVD. Thank you for lending it to me. But, I wanted to ask... Did you watch it to its completion?" Mimi blinked, then glanced back into her room.

"Natasha, I'll be back in a few," she said, slipping her feet into a pair of girlish, flower-adorned sandals waiting by the door. Izzy stepped back, giving her room to get by him and into the hallway.

"I assume we're going back to my room," Izzy said, leading the way to the stairwell, "given the sensitive nature of this topic." Mimi sighed, an unusually somber sound, by her standards, then nodded. She stayed quiet until they were seated opposite each other in his room, he in his desk chair, and she in Joe's.

"You want to know about Jerry," she said bluntly. Izzy closed his eyes, and his fingers gripped the top of his chair's backrest.

"I do. Amy seems unable to say much on the topic, although I haven't directly asked her about it. But what I have heard was cause for concern."

"She said something about it to you?!" Mimi cried, half standing. She suddenly looked incensed. "I can't- but she never- she hasn't said anything to _me_!" Izzy's stomach sank, both because it seemed that Mimi lacked the information he wanted, and because she was angry now. The last thing he needed was for her to grow jealous and hurt because Amy had let something slip at the skating rink. He hastened to say something soothing.

"I think it was an accident on her part. A slip of the tongue. She certainly looked taken aback after she spoke. But all she really said was that the relationship ended badly, although the context suggested that it ended _very _badly."

Mimi sighed, then slowly sank back into her seat. "Well... I don't really know what happened, either. I do know that Jerry was on Tai's soccer team. They were friends, not good friends, but, you know, they got along and could chat and hang out. I think Jerry asked Amy out in February of senior year, but Amy said no. We were all like, 'Whaaaaaaaat, no, Amy, go on a date, have some fun!' because, you know, she never dated or said she liked anyone or took a break. Her whole life was school, drama club in the spring, and supporting Tai and Matt, and their siblings. And Tai vouched for Jerry left and right, since he knew him from soccer, and he was a good guy. Everyone had nothing but good things to say about him, other than that he was kind of a clown."

Izzy could feel the muscles in his face tightening, and he hoped Mimi couldn't see it. He knew exactly the kind of pressure that Tai, Matt, and Mimi had exerted on Amy. Everyone in this world seemed to think that teens and young adults should follow a copy-and-pasted life style. If a young person wasn't surrounded by a mass of friends, if they didn't spend every free moment on the phone or doing something social, then there was something wrong with them, something that required fixing. He and Amy weren't that kind of creature. They liked solitude and quiet. To them, one real friend was worth twenty, a hundred, a _thousand _of the kinds of friend a high school photo album was filled with, the kind that bled out of your life as soon as you walked off of the auditorium stage with your diploma. Introversion was character _trait_, not a character _fault_ in need of fixing, so long as there was someone in your life that you loved.

But that was an old tirade, one that had no place being spoken now, so he focused back in on Mimi, who was still speaking. "We kept bugging her about it, and when he asked her again about a month later, she said yes. Of course, I grilled her for the details over the phone, but she never had much to say about it. We went to the movies. We had dinner. He told this really funny joke, I can tell you, but he tells it better. That sort of thing."

Mimi broke off for a moment, staring at the cinder block walls. And, somehow, for the first time during their acquaintance, he knew exactly what she was thinking. She felt guilty; it was evident in the slumping of her shoulders, in the slight moistening of her eyes. "I should have known there was a problem," she said, crossing her arms and staring at the ceiling. "Amy likes telling stories. And she kind of has a way with words." Her eyes flicked to him, and a tiny smile tugged at her lips. "Now that I think about it, she talks about _you_ way more than she ever talked about him- seriously, it's always 'Izzy this, Izzy that,' -and you're not even dating."

Izzy gave her a dull, bovine stare as he absorbed her words. He could feel himself coloring faintly, so he turned his face away from her, then began to speak, making a point of ignoring her last sentence, not allowing his mind or his voice to wrap their way around it. "I've certainly found her to be of a witty, descriptive bent."

Mimi frowned and tossed her hair, looking annoyed at his decision to ignore her teasing. Then she sighed and continued with the main point of their discussion. "Yeah. So, it was weird that she always gave me the cliff notes, you know? But I figured she was being shy, so I let it go. But, then, seeing that video... It seems like she was uncomfortable with him."

Temper, ragged and boiling, instantly kicked up in his stomach, and the fabric of his chair's backrest indented deeply as his hands clenched around it. "He was being _far _too physical with her," he said critically, speaking in a tone that implied that this was an obvious fact. "She didn't want to be picked up. She didn't want to be kissed, _especially_ not in front of a camera. And, if I'm following the time line you're providing, this video was shot within two months of the start of their relationship. That isn't much time for her to grow comfortable with him, to ease into physical contact."

"Oh, Izzy! Two months is _forever _for a high school relationship! And she was already eighteen! It's not like they were little freshmen. A kiss and a hug is nothing to get upset about." Mimi sighed and ran her fingers through her hair in an agitated way, then settled a lock of it behind her ear. "I don't understand why she's always been so uncomfortable with being touched."

"Amy is too mature to measure a relationship with an arbitrary 'high school' ruler," Izzy snapped. "And, clearly, this Jerry didn't know how to respect her boundaries. If they bothered him, then he should have either resigned himself and been patient or broken up with her." He threw himself out of his chair and began to pace around the room, too worked up to remain calmly seated. Mimi's eyes widened as they followed his blind prowl around the room, but he didn't register that he was behaving strangely.

Mimi held her hands up, palm out. "Look, don't get all hissy at me. I don't know what happened, Izzy, I wasn't there, and she won't talk to me. I _hate _it when she won't talk to me!" She broke off for a moment and seethed. "What I _can_ tell you is that they broke up right after prom, although I didn't hear about it until mid June. Amy dropped off the grid entirely for a few weeks. I was starting to get frantic when Matt finally picked up one of my calls. I asked Amy about it, but she wouldn't spill, she just said they broke up. I couldn't bring myself to keep asking. She sounded so hurt, I figured he cheated on her- _the bastard_! -or something like that, and that she didn't want to talk about it. And Tai and Matt keep saying that it's her business."

_No, _Izzy thought, staring at the floor. _If that boy cheated on her, she would have been upset, but gotten over it before too long. She didn't entirely trust him in that video, and that was probably only a week or two prior to prom. That indicates that she was never all that close to him. Something else happened. I'm certain._

But Mimi didn't know what it was, and that did not bode well. He could only imagine the kind of pressure Mimi would have put on Amy to try and get her to talk to her about it. If she wouldn't tell her, then who would she have told?

Tai knew. That much was obvious from the hints he had dropped when he was threatening him. But the bruises on Izzy's neck and shoulders weren't entirely healed yet, and he had no desire to provoke further damage. And that left just one person within his reach. He had hardly spoken to Matt so far this semester, although from what he had seen of him from cafeteria dinners with Amy's group and Joe suggested that he was a decent guy, if a bit arrogant. Perhaps it was time to start subtly improving that relationship… But, then, if they wouldn't tell Mimi, then they probably wouldn't tell him. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him that it would really be simpler to just speak to Amy, but he had no idea how to broach so sensitive a topic. And, even if he did, he was fairly certain that she wouldn't open up to him. Not yet.

A sudden movement right in front of his eyes had him gasping and looking up. Mimi was standing over him, scowling and waving her hand in his face. "Izzy! Geez, I've been trying to get your attention for the last minute. You shouldn't ignore people who are trying to talk to you!"

"I apologize," he said automatically. "I'm concerned about her. I realize that it's none of my business. And, at any rate, this event is over and done with, and it might be best to let the proverbial sleeping dog lie. However…" His anger dripped out of him, replaced with regret and a deep sadness, as he recalled all of the times that he had watched fear, uncertainty, and pain flit through Amy's expressive eyes. He leaned his back against the hard, cold wall and tipped his chin into his palm, staring vacantly about the room, seeing nothing. "The damage is lingering. It's clearly evident. I can't help but wonder if there's something I can do to help her." He ran his fingers through his short hair, pulling it slightly in his frustration. "If I only _knew_… How am I supposed to function usefully without the appropriate information?!"

Mimi looked at him, eyes slightly wide, for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then, she stood and came over to him, invading his personal space, and his mind immediately went to the last time she had done this. If he could have, he would have edged away, but he was trapped against the wall. At least there were no potential torture devices in his room, but, then, Mimi seemed to be more creative about such things than he was. Her hands closed around his shoulders, and she leaned in towards him.

"You _will _ask her out, right, Izzy?" she said quietly. "I've never heard her talk about someone the way she talks about you. I've never seen her trying so hard to connect with someone. I know I give you a hard time, but… I think you already are helping her, and that's pretty amazing."

Izzy was mute for a moment, unable to digest her sudden kindness and seriousness, unsure if he trusted her claim that Amy's interest in him was in any way special. He tried to brush it off, but the words lingered within him, battering down his normal tendencies to deflect, to withdraw. When he finally averted his eyes, made a hard, disinterested expression, and produced a noncommittal sound, it was only a vain effort to save face. Mimi already knew that her words had made their intended impact; that much was evident in her small, hopeful smile.

She patted his shoulders with something like affection, turned, and flounced out of the room.

Another Day

Izzy stepped out of the math building, where he had just finished a class, and scanned the surrounding area. He, Amy, and Joe had made lunch plans last night, and Amy had agreed to meet him here after his period ended. He spotted her sitting on a bench nearby. Her eyes were closed, and her head was tipped back, placing her face directly in the path of the harshest sunlight. It was getting on towards late October, and the temperature seemed to drop a little each day, which might have explained her sudden desire for the warmth of the sun. _She's sunbathing, _he realized. Then her lips curved into an absent smile, and Izzy smiled automatically in return, although of course she wasn't smiling at him. _And, knowing her, likely daydreaming, as well. _

He approached her bench and sat on the far edge, not wanting to startle her with his voice or his nearness. But she didn't react to the shifting of the weathered wood below her, so he leaned in closer. "Amy?" he said softly.

"Mmm?" she replied, her tone dreamy, distant, and lilting. Her head tipped towards him, and her eyes opened lazily. She glanced at him with unfocused, heavily-lidded eyes. Izzy frowned slightly, finding himself worried about her. Did she always wander around in an oblivious haze? If so, she might endanger herself. His hand twitched towards her at the thought, as if to shield her, and his fingers grazed her cheek. Her skin was incredibly warm with the touch of the sun.

Her expression immediately began to sharpen with awareness, and Izzy withdrew, slightly baffled by his own behavior. She blinked, then stretched her upper body like a cat rising from a nap. "Hi, Izzy," she sighed, and her voice dripped with contentment and relaxation.

"Good afternoon," he returned. "It's nice to see you so at ease after your exam preparations." He paused, unsure of whether he should scold her for spacing out so much in public, or whether he should indicate that he was slightly hurt by the way she had cloistered herself with Joe all last week and shut him out. Then his face tightened at the thought; no, that was nothing to him. Her method of approaching her school work was her business, and he wasn't interested in the matter.

"Mmm!" The sound was a high-pitched, pleased squeak that popped out of her of its own volition, at least as far as he could tell. It was heavy with pleasure, clearly resulting from the feeling of stretching her body out. She was arching her back and grasping the back of the bench, working out the stiffness that had built up during her wait. Izzy scooted closer, his dark eyes riveted to the curve of her back. Then he realized what he was doing, colored, and fixed his glance on her face.

"Listen, Izzy," she said, straightening out and lifting her hands to her shoulders. She slipped them beneath the neckline of her dress, lifting the fabric slightly and giving him a glance at the pale, creamy skin underneath. Her hands proceeded to rub her shoulders and the base of her neck, and her face contorted with pain once or twice as she located and worked on problem areas. Izzy found himself wondering if she would accept some assistance, then fought the urge to slam his forehead into his palm. "I'm sorry I was so uptight. I get like that sometimes, when I'm preparing for something. I hope I didn't annoy you too much."

Izzy averted his glance, feeling undecided on where to take his answer. He didn't want his words to indicate hurt or criticism, but he was also mysteriously unable to let the subject go with no comment. "It's difficult for you to annoy me when you're not in my company," he said carefully.

Amy started abruptly, then stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Her eyes fixed onto his, and he fought down a sigh. They had that knowing, far-off expression in them, and he always felt as though he had been transported to some kind of wild, lawless wonderland when she looked at him like that. His hands found the edge of the bench and clung, as if to ground himself in the real world.

"Izzy..." she said at last. "I honestly thought you'd be relieved if I left you alone for a little while. You're someone who likes his space, and I always worry that I'm imposing." For a moment, her hands wrung in her lap, creating slight bulges in the fabric of the skirt of her dress. Then she glanced away from him, and one of her palms caressed her cheek.

"You're not." The words rushed out, as if his mind was trying to get them in the open before he checked them. For a moment, it was difficult to keep his face clear of his frustration with himself, but then she smiled at him, and he forgot about it. "And, if you insist on thinking that you're imposing... Then, fine, impose away. I'm disposed to indulge you." He cleared his throat and stared at the sidewalk, as if it were massively interesting. "I would be much obliged if, in return, you... You set aside some time for me when you're preparing for exams."

He could feel the weight of her gaze, but he kept his eyes firmly on the concrete. Then she scooted closer, and her fingers closed gently around his upper arm. "I'm really sorry, Izzy. If you had said something earlier, I would have... I'm sorry. I didn't realize... You missed me?"

Izzy's mind began to scramble, tripping all over itself in an attempt to provide an answer that was both safe and soothing. His heartbeat pounded like a drum, primal and fast and loud, and it seemed a wonder that she didn't hear it. He opened and closed his mouth, but he still had nothing to say that didn't say too much. In the end, he produced an uncomfortable grunt and ran his fingers briefly over hers. Then, summoning his courage, he glanced at her, too curious about her reaction to resist. It wasn't exactly the world's suavest maneuver, and he was concerned that he might have offended her.

She was smiling shyly, and her free hand was toying endlessly with her long hair. "I'm hungry," she said brightly, obviously changing the subject. "Joe should be on his way to the student union. We should get going."

"As you will," he said slowly, standing up, pausing to help her rise with him. She continued to hold on to him as they walked, and, somehow, Izzy knew that she had understood him, and, perhaps, had even understood his difficulties with expressing himself. And that understanding was such a rarity, such a welcome relief that he hardly knew how to digest it. He trotted at her side in something of a daze, unable to really think about anything.

For a few minutes, he nodded at appropriate intervals as Amy's chirping voice sounded pleasantly above him, hearing the words without taking in their meaning. Then, a hand landed on his shoulder with jarring force, and his stride broke. Amy's grip tightened around his arm.

Izzy turned to see a tall, thin boy standing behind him. Something seemed to sour in his stomach as he recognized him. It was Michael, a boy from his high school, one of Shauna's friends. He had doleful, light blue eyes, slightly obscured from view by large, thick-rimmed glasses. His black hair was shaggy and messy around his weak chin and shallow cheeks, and, as ever, he seemed to have exactly a day's worth of scruff on his face. He wore a plaid button down, a green cardigan, and curiously tight, weathered blue jeans.

"Ah, I thought it was you, Scarecrow," he said, and his voice was every bit as mournful as Izzy remembered, even as he smiled playfully with those oddly pale lips. Izzy felt a muscle twitch in his face at the sound of that nickname, and he glanced at Amy automatically, dreading the fact that she has just heard it. She was tipping her head quizzically and glancing between the two of them.

They were holding up foot traffic, so Izzy allowed himself to be led out of the way by the sweet girl attached to his arm, the girl who could potentially be learning some things he would desperately prefer remain hidden at this point. Despite the slight nip to the air, he was suddenly much, much too hot.

There was a pause, as Izzy refused to answer to Scarecrow, and Michael seemed to entirely expect him to. Finally, Amy's other hand joined her first around his arm, and she moved her body closer to his. "Are you talking to Izzy?" she asked politely, pointing her big brown eyes at Michael.

"I'm trying to," he replied, raising a brow and stuffing his long, spindly hands into the pockets of his cardigan. As usual, he fell into a slumping posture, as if he were straining below the weight of the world, like Atlas. And, with that thought, Izzy realized how much Amy's constant prattle about Greek and Roman mythology had leaked into his brain.

"It might help to use his name," Amy said, and there was an odd strain in her tone that Izzy had never heard before.

"What?" Michael asked, tossing his head slightly to get the hair out of his eyes. "We called him Scarecrow in high school." He frowned and slid his eyes back to Izzy's. "This your new girlfriend?" he asked, smiling slightly and shaking his head. Pure panic dropped like a stone down Izzy's spine, spreading ripples out and over the rest of his body. _No, no, no, no! _he chanted in his mind. He wanted to grab Amy and run, but there seemed to be some disconnect between his inner world and outer world, as if he were in a dream where he was being pursued, but was unable to move.

"Why would you call him Scarecrow?" Amy asked, ignoring the rest of what he had said. "I assume it's not because he needs a brain, because that's just silly."

Michael cracked a smile, then raised an eyebrow. "Can't you tell? Just take a look at him."

Amy turned her eyes to him, and Izzy felt like a deer in headlights, entirely unable to do anything about the impending impact. He watched their slow, thoughtful progress over his frame, starting at his forehead, working down, and then back up. Finally, she put her hands on her hips and shook her head.

"I don't see it," she said, and Izzy was finally able to pinpoint why her voice sounded strange. It was laced with that odd buzzing undertone that he had heard in Tai's voice right before he completely lost his temper. Izzy stared at her in astonishment, wondering if she, too, was capable of that kind of explosion. But he tried to push those thoughts away, because she was still speaking, and every word was important, could potentially reveal vital information.

"What I _do _see," she continued, "is a sweet, intelligent, gentle man. And I would much rather continue our conversation than carry on this one with you, so... If you'll excuse us, we'll be on our way." And then she took hold of his arm and half-pulled him back onto the sidewalk, so swiftly that Izzy didn't stand a chance of observing Michael's reaction.

He was shocked for the first few steps, and probably would have stood completely still, like an actual scarecrow, if Amy weren't dragging him along with her. Then, his faculties returned, and he found himself almost jogging beside her. She was breathing a little hard, and her muscles seemed to be stiff and set, causing her feet to fall even more heavily than usual. She was practically stamping and snorting. Izzy put his hand on hers and tried to think of a way to soothe her, and the contact seemed to break through whatever mood was riding her. She turned her face to him, blinked, and stepped away from him, breaking his loose hold, shifting instantly into nerves and anxiety.

"Oh, stars," she breathed, raking her fingers through her hair. "Was that your friend? Was I just a total bitch to one of your friends? I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me, I just... I'm so sorry! I can go back and apologize- I'll go back and-"

"Amy, stop," Izzy said, reaching for her hand. His fingers closed around it, and he was faintly surprised to find that, despite her being half a foot taller than him, her hands were smaller than his. He looked up into her pale, drawn face and tried to smile reassuringly, but he still felt too raw, and he could tell that his lips had hardly twitched upwards. "He wasn't my friend. No one who refers to me in that manner is my friend. Please, calm down." He was too overwhelmed to really notice that he was squeezing her hand and crowding her, slipping further into her personal space than he ever had before. His thumb ran continually over her knuckles, but he wasn't sure if it was a nervous twitch on his part, or if he was trying to soothe her.

He didn't know what to think. For one, he was worried now that the old nicknames that had been Shauna's parting gift to him in high school would follow him here. He should have known better than to come here, so many people in their area went here, but the full scholarship, including room and board, had been too tempting, and he wanted to be near his parents. Furthermore, he had been shadowed by Shauna's crushingly descriptive gossip for about a year and a half now, and this was the first time someone had objected, had replaced cruel words with kind ones. His grip tightened on her hand.

"Thank you," he said softly, wishing he had a better way to explain what her defense had meant to him.

She exhaled slowly, and the tenseness slipped out of her body by degrees. "Ah. I'm glad that guy wasn't your friend. He seems like a self-satisfied jerk… Not that I can really know, but…" Her mouth curved into a deep frown. "Why would he call you Scarecrow? I still don't get it."

Izzy raised an eyebrow. The jibe had made immediate sense to him the first time he heard it. "It's a remark on my frame." She stared at him blankly, so he held his other arm out to her. He was very scrawny; she didn't know, having never seen him shirtless, but his ribs were clearly visible, as were the sliding motions of his slight muscles beneath his skin when he moved. That had apparently been repulsive to Shauna, which he always found uncharitable and hypocritical, as she was also slight.

She huffed and looked away. "People amaze me," she muttered. "Too fat, too skinny, too short, too tall, too pale… What they should really be worrying about is how shallow they are, how they have nothing better to do than sit around and think about other people's bodies. _I_ think you're fine." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, which was fortunate for Izzy, because it was tickling his face.

"Any dang way," she continued brightly, as if to brush off that entire encounter, "I'm soooo hungry. Let's hurry and get to the student union already, Joe is probably tapping his feet and looking at his watch every two seconds."

Izzy couldn't help but smile. "He almost certainly is." His fingers tightened around hers, and her hand twitched. She glanced down, then stared at their connected hands. Nerves began to thrum through Izzy's body as he realized that she had been too upset to notice before now. He cleared his throat and stepped awkwardly back from her, releasing her as he went. He had no idea if he should say something, perhaps apologize, but he was too flustered to string something together. Instead, he picked up his pace, so that he was constantly a step in front of Amy. _Running away, _he thought bitterly. _Fleeing from one who would defend me. What's wrong with me?_

"Slow down," Amy cried, and he was surprised to hear the suppressed laughter in her voice. "I won't starve to death in the next ten minutes. You don't need to run." She jumped forward so that she was beside him again, then slid her fingers against the inside of his elbow.

Izzy had no idea if she was really that clueless, or if she was charitably pretending that nothing had happened. It could honestly go either way, given what he knew of her. Regardless, his emotions settled down as she pulled him towards her and startled to prattle about a story Tai had told her. He listened, indulging himself in the musical sound of her voice, grinning with true amusement as, with sister-like glee and affection, she described silly, embarrassing things the soccer player had done.

It was about a ten minute walk, but they were at the student union as fast as blinking.

A Few Minutes Later

Izzy was sitting at a table with Joe in the incredibly crowded student union food court. Normally they ate in the cafeteria, where they could use their meal points instead of cash, but Joe and Amy wanted to celebrate a little after their first midterm, which apparently meant eating fast food. He and Joe had gotten their food quickly, but apparently Amy's fast food restaurant of choice was popular, because she was still standing at the back of a line in the distance. They were in a corner table, pressed up against cushy seats where students sat reading books. Every chair was taken, as was every table, and still more students sat directly on the carpeted floor below the armchairs. The din of chattering students was unbearable.

"Did she mention her test score to you?" Joe asked, glancing towards Amy. Izzy shook his head. In truth, he had wondered about it, but she hadn't offered the information, so he hadn't asked. Joe reached for his duffel bag. "I asked her to lend it to me. Let me show you."

"Why would you want to borrow her test?" Izzy asked. He speared a piece of lettuce with his fork and twisted it around. As usual, he wasn't particularly interested in the food in front of him.

Joe snorted, opened a folder, removed a paper, and sat it in front of him. "That would be why," he said, poking the red numbers at the top of the test. Izzy frowned at the score and picked up the exam.

"110%?" he read, speaking into the paper, as if it would offer some sort of explanation in return. "But that seems a tad… _excessive_. Wasn't the test difficult?"

"The average was a 65. I got an 87. She's really smart, Izzy. Go ahead, read some of her short answers." Izzy met Joe's eyes, intending to ask what the point of that would be, but something about his friend's expression convinced him to simply obey. He flipped through the pages, then quickly read a few remarks. Her answers were incredibly thorough, and written in smooth, thoughtful, concise language, the kind that took most people a great deal of time to achieve, if they ever could at all.

"She has a well-organized, creative mind, and an extremely strong handle on language," he summarized, placing the test back on the table. "And she's a quick thinker."

"But she struggles with calculations and logic, or, at least, that's what she keeps insisting. Whenever I praise her, she tries to brush it off or point out her weak spots. I wonder what that's about?"

"That much I'm familiar with," Izzy said, sighing. "And you should be, too. People often react harshly when presented with evidence that someone is intellectually superior to them. She's attempting to ward off that reaction by downplaying her talent."

"Well, the numbers speak for themselves." Joe put the test away and zipped up his bag. "Don't you see how good for you Amy is? She's smart. She could keep up with you. I don't think she's particularly into computers or math, but she would listen to you if you wanted to talk about them, and she could make sense of it if you took the time to explain. I know you often have to translate your thoughts into something simpler so other people can follow you. You wouldn't have to do that with her. You-"

Izzy stemmed Joe's flow of words with a sharp, annoyed hand gesture. "I'm not interested. And, besides, it's not as if I can just ask her to be with me because someone tells me that we're compatible. There's no evidence to suggest she's interested in me romantically." He began to dig into his salad fiercely, never actually taking a bite, savagely puncturing the greens with his fork. Why was everyone trying to get involved in his love life? He didn't _want _a love life. _That's it, _he thought darkly, drowning a bit of lettuce in a pool of dressing. _I need to downplay my relationship with her. I can't completely cut it off, the way I did previously, but there needs to be some change. I need to see less of her._

Memories of the previous week played forcibly through his brain, reminding him of how he felt when she had gently turned him away to study. He spent the week almost entirely alone, which normally would have been bliss. But, instead of enjoying it, he had found the quiet unbearable, the stillness stifling. He spent his evenings on his computer, frequently checking the time, wishing that he was playing a video game in Amy's room, shooting things while she strummed her guitar and chattered. He almost got up and joined Amy and Joe in the library a few times, but somehow the thought offended his pride. After continually emphasizing to himself and the people around him that there was nothing special about his relationship with Amy, he didn't want to chase after her at the first signs of her diverting her attention elsewhere.

But he couldn't deny that he had strongly desired to do so.

Joe broke through those thoughts with an exasperated sound. "_Izzy,_" he breathed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. "Please. You like Amy. She likes you. Why do you keep insisting that there's nothing there?"

"Because there isn't." Izzy pressed the words out through gritted teeth.

A mellow baritone voice floated to the table, and Izzy turned instinctively towards the sound. "Pardon me, but… I beg to differ." Izzy shared a quick look with Joe, then turned his attention to the boy addressing them. He was sitting in one of the cushy armchairs nearby, with a massive textbook open across his lap. Izzy's glance immediately fell on a pair of placid blue eyes.

Like him, the stranger was redheaded, but the hue was lighter than his, and his cut was longer. His bangs fell into his eyes, and he absently swept them out, splaying them across his regal forehead. His nose was long and pointed, and his lips were thin and flat. He held his body straight and motionless, and his expression was entirely neutral, so that he almost seemed like a fixture in the room, rather than a living person.

Izzy had no idea how to respond to his interruption, so he stared blankly at him. But apparently his glance was enough of an invitation to continue, because the boy tapped a finger against his textbook, then continued to speak. "I happened to notice your group earlier, mostly because the girl with you was speaking with such animation. I know it's rude, and I do apologize, but your behavior was too interesting for me to ignore it." He paused for a moment, then automatically straightened the collar of his crisp button down shirt. "My name is Ryo Hiraki. I study psychology," he added, as if this gave him license to eavesdrop.

"Indeed," Izzy said blandly. He finally took a bite of his salad, using it as a prop for something to do, because he was utterly baffled by this encounter. He didn't give his name in return, as that would imply that this was a normal conversation, which it most definitely was not.

Those thin lips twisted into a wan smile. "Yes. And I notice you claim that there's no romantic interest between yourself and this girl- Amy, I believe you said."

Izzy continued to stare at him, not bothering to hold back the grimace forming on his face. Just what he needed- a complete strange telling him how he felt, another person trying to dictate and interpret his actions. Didn't these people have anything else to do? "And I assume you have an alternate theory to propose," he said, allowing his annoyance to flow through his tone. He speared a slice of radish and crunched it noisily in his mouth.

"Now, now," the stranger said, steepling his fingers and leaning towards them. "Settle down. I'm trying to help you."

"Kindly get in line," Izzy muttered. His eyes roved over the other boy's slim frame, as if to find some weak spot that would cause him to go away. All he noticed was the logo sewn onto his button down. It was the insignia of another school in the state, a prestigious one where students paid three times as much for the same quality of education as the one received here. Izzy's heavy brow furrowed.

The boy's eyes flicked towards his lap, and his hand twitched, as if he were longing to take notes. Izzy took the opportunity to shoot a disgruntled look at Joe, but he, curse him, looked amused. Confused and surprised also, but mostly amused. _Damn it, _Izzy thought, dropping his chin into his palm.

"Her body language is much more telling than yours," the boy continued, as if there had been no objections, "so we'll begin there. She leans towards you whenever you speak, and constantly scans your face, doubtlessly hoping to see that you're entertained. Her eyes follow you across the room. Even now, with her attention focused on waiting for her order to come up, she continually glances in this direction. Before your group split up to order, I noticed that she angles her body towards yours at all times, and that she automatically mimics your idiosyncratic gestures, such as the way you make a fist and press the knuckle of your pointer finger against your chin. Furthermore, you have a very distinctive way of speaking, and she's adopted some of your word choice and syntax. I assume she didn't have the habit of saying 'as you will' before she met you. These are all signs of deep respect and regard. And I hope I don't have to explain the significance of her constant desire to be in physical contact with you." He nodded to himself and ran a single finger down the page of his textbook. "The evidence in favor of her being romantically interested in you is overwhelming."

And he delivered this entire speech in a detached, gentle monotone, as if he wasn't saying anything remarkable, as if he hadn't just dipped his fingers into the lives of strangers and accurately pulled out and analyzed specific details. Izzy's annoyance began to morph into shock and something close to awe. Some of those comments had been a little too apt for comfort.

"That's… That's amazing," Joe sputtered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the table. The stranger began to smile faintly, but his lips straightened back out as he continued.

"You're much more subtle," he said, nodding at Izzy. "The most obvious sign of your interest in her is, contrarily, the vehemence with which you deny that interest. And it's not just what you say. You grow upset when confronted with a claim that you have feelings for her, which I've seen in the way you've been pulverizing your salad, in how your muscles tighten, in the way you close off your posture. Defensive, unsettled physical twitches." And, with that, Izzy drew back in his seat, and his teeth began to grind. Then he grimaced and forced himself to sit calmly, to deny this man the signals he was pointing out.

"Furthermore, you continually place your body between her and the nearest person, subconsciously showing both dominance- this is mine, if you will- and the desire to protect. She pulls back when someone other than you and your friend gets too close, and you try to prevent that fear from rising in her. Your body relaxes when she's close to you, and your body language becomes more open. And, finally, you speak to her in a softer tone than you use with other people. Not conclusive evidence of attachment, perhaps, but strong evidence."

_Stay calm, _Izzy ordered himself. In truth, he was extremely uncomfortable. He felt raw and naked, as if this boy had just stripped him in the middle of the food court. And, in a way, he had. He fixed his eyes on his tattered salad and took an obscene amount of time selecting his next bite.

"I've upset you," the boy said, adjusting his bangs again. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have said anything, but… She seems like a nice girl, and you only live once. I don't often see such intense signals of affection from a girl; it seems a waste not to notice them." He closed his book and stood. "I won't trouble you further." With that, he nodded politely at them and slipped into the crowd mulling along the edges of the food court, disappearing from view almost immediately.

There was a long silence at the table. Then, Joe frowned and glanced about, looking a bit disoriented. "Did that just happen?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Izzy sighed, pushed his ruined bowl of salad towards the center of the table, propped his elbow against the surface, and dropped his chin into his palm. "Indeed it did." He was going to say more, but Amy was bouncing towards the table, rapidly moving out of the way of people passing by.

"Gosh, that took forever!" she complained as she fell into the seat beside him. Then she scooted her chair towards him, bent her elbow against the table, and dropped her chin into her palm. Izzy's eyes immediately went to Joe's.

That obnoxious psychology boy was entirely correct.

That Evening

As usual, Izzy was occupied with his computer when a knock on the dorm room's door disturbed him. He glanced over his shoulder at Joe, but he was apparently too absorbed in his orgo textbook to be bothered with trivialities such as visitors. Besides, there was a playful, rhythmic feel to this knock, and Izzy was fairly sure it was for him.

Within moments, a glance through the peephole confirmed his suspicions. His hand rested hesitantly on the doorknob, but he seemed unable to twist it, which would allow Amy inside. _So_, he thought regretfully, _we're back to this_. Every shred of evidence indicating that something was building between the two of them made him more nervous, more frustrated. In truth, what he was really feeling was desperate, sickening fear, but he tried not to acknowledge it as such.

"Let her in, Izzy," Joe ordered. His volume was soft, but his tone was not. "I am _not _watching you do that to yourself- or to her- again."

Izzy instantly felt the muscles in his back tighten and twitch. No. No, he couldn't stomach the thought of hurting her again. But, in an attempt to at least salvage some of his pride, he tried to clear the tension from his body and to speak lightly. "Of course I'm opening it." And then he did just that.

Amy smiled eagerly at him, and he cleared his throat automatically in response. She acted as if she hadn't seen him just a few hours ago at lunch. And, with that thought, his stomach produced a massive growl. He grimaced and stepped back from her, distantly recalling that he had destroyed more of his salad than he had ingested.

Amy blinked at him and slid her eyes to his stomach. "So I guess you haven't eaten yet, then, huh?" she asked. She nibbled her lower lip rapidly, in a way that seemed to suggest that she was fighting down a laugh. He colored slightly with embarrassment. She came closer to him and laid a palm against his stomach, so softly that he wasn't entirely sure if she was actually touching him. "Poor tummy. I don't really know, but I feel like you don't always eat as much as you should? You hardly touched your lunch."

"He forgets to eat half of the time," Joe said, turning away from his book. Izzy grunted his disapproval, fixing the taller boy with a hard look, but Joe gave him a tiny smile in return. "I try to make sure he eats something every day -his mother made me promise to- but I can't watch him all the time. I could use some help."

"Izzzyyy," Amy scolded, pressing her palm more firmly against him. "Your stomach is wriggling. Doesn't that hurt? Stars!" His gut chose that precise moment to rumble again, and Izzy slipped his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from slapping his forehead.

"I would appreciate it if you two wouldn't speak of me as if I were an errant child," he said through gritted teeth. "And Joe is grossly exaggerating. True, I do occasionally forget to eat, but it certainly isn't a daily occurrence. And I eat plenty when I'm at home."

"I would, too, if I were you," Joe said, sighing longingly. "Your mom's cooking is _amazing_. I can't believe how thin you are. I'd be round as a walrus if I lived at your place."

Amy removed her hand from his stomach and gave her full attention to Joe. "It's really that good?" she asked, sounding impressed. Joe flicked his eyes to Izzy's, and he swallowed roughly, sensing that his friend was about to set him up somehow.

"It really is. You should go home with Izzy some weekend and see for yourself. I'm sure his parents would love to meet you."

At this point, Izzy was openly glaring at Joe and making frantic 'stop it!' hand motions behind Amy's back. First of all, that hint was just too strong; he was fairly sure that you typically didn't bring college friends of the opposite sex home this early in the first semester, not unless you were dating and it was going very, very well. And, secondly, if Joe ever told his mother that he was exhibiting signs of interest in someone at school- which was a distinct possibility, as he and Joe had known each other forever- then his parents would want to know all about it, and wouldn't that be a fun conversation.

"To meet me?" Amy echoed, tilting her head in that bird-like way of hers. "But, why me?"

"Please, pay him no mind, Amy," Izzy said hastily, placing a hand on her upper arm. "He's being facetious. Now, I assume you wanted to go to the cafeteria?"

Amy blinked, looked from him, to Joe, and then back to him, then shook her head slightly. "Uh... Yes. Yeah, I wanted to ask if you wanted to grab something there and come back? Maybe we could play video games? Or we could watch Futurama. Are you hungry, Joe?" She wandered over to his desk, glanced over his shoulder, and grimaced. "Oh, no! Orgo is our next exam, isn't it? I'm gonna get destroyed..."

"You'll be fine," Joe said absently. "I'll help you study. As for dinner..." Joe looked over at Izzy, and the redhead frowned slightly. He could guess Joe's dilemma: Joe _was_ hungry, and he wanted to go with them, but he also wanted the two of them to be alone together. Joe stared down at his open book and sighed, clearly unsure of how to navigate these uncertain waters.

Amy placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in closer to him, and Izzy felt his interest sharpen. With the exception of himself, Tai, and Matt, this was the first time he had seen her intentionally touch a male. He suddenly realized that Amy thought very highly of Joe, as well, and he began to think of all the time they spent together in classes, in labs, and in the library. In fact, she had probably avoided contact with everyone but Joe during her test preparations. A foreign, uncomfortable feeling went through his gut, and it was much more distracting than his hunger. But it was unidentifiable and unfamiliar, so he dismissed it and silently watched their exchange.

"I get it," Amy chirped, crowding Joe's upper back. "You're hungry, but you're in the _zone_, right? Tell you what, we'll bring something back for you, okay? I can never use all of my meal points anyway, and they just get stolen at the end of every month." Then she straightened abruptly and turned back to him. "Ah, assuming you want to come with me?" she added sheepishly.

"My pleasure." Despite the polite words, there was no graciousness in Izzy's tone. He was too distracted with the troublesome emotions within him. He sighed gustily, wishing with great longing for his old, stoic existence. Joe frowned at him, no doubt a comment on his behavior, but he returned his gaze calmly, providing no reaction.

Amy lost some of her typical animation. She asked Joe what he would like, accepted his thanks with a faint smile, then stepped closer to him. "Alright, then," she said slowly. "Let's go?" The hesitance in her tone caused a surge of repentance to flow through Izzy. Once he put his shoes on and grabbed his student ID, which they swiped to pay for things at the cafeteria, he stood beside her and formally offered her his arm, bent slightly at the elbow. A warm smile softened her face as she accepted. Soon, he was leading her out of the room and towards the elevator.

"You know," Amy said, running her fingers along the inside of his elbow, "I bet we look pretty silly to most people. This gesture kind of went out of style, didn't it?" Izzy produced an indifferent grunt, as he was still distracted, but he backtracked when he realized that she was moving away from him.

"I'm not interested in the opinions of strangers, nor in those of most of my acquaintances. And it isn't as if the gesture is obtrusive. Most people probably take no notice of it. I have no reservations about offering you my arm, unless, of course, you do." He forced a smile, and, although he could feel its brittleness, she returned it.

"I like it," she said, slightly increasing the strength of her grip. "I really do. You're so, so…" She broke off for a moment, head tilted in consideration. "…_dashing_."

Izzy nearly missed a step in his stride, but, fortunately, was able to stop himself before he pulled both of them down. Amy really didn't need another person pulling her into tumbles and spills. "You're joking," he choked, his voice tightening around the words. He knew exactly what he was: a nerd, straight down to the core, and he was happy with that. And nerds were not dashing. They were generally awkward and antisocial, and, if there were exceptions, he was not one of them.

Amy gave him a confused frown. "Eh? That wouldn't be a very funny joke." He could feel himself narrowing his eyes suspiciously, and he was sure she wouldn't appreciate it, but he couldn't seem to help himself. She huffed and looked away from him. "What. I feel safe when I'm with you. And, you know me, I can be so neurotic… It's nice."

He tried to think of something to say, to reach into his typical store of wit and dry, careless, subject-ending humor, but he had nothing. Well, except for a desire to keep arguing the point, which he knew she wouldn't like. But his need for more information seemed to push the words up and out of his mouth, and he grimaced as he spoke, knowing full well that he was turning a compliment into a mild altercation. "I'm afraid I can't provide you with much safety. I doubt my usefulness in a physical fight would be significantly superior to yours."

"Well, I don't intend to get in a fight any time soon," Amy retorted. "There's more to it than muscle, Izzy." She sighed and turned her eyes towards the sky, where the sun was just beginning to dip towards the earth. "Much more."

"Such as?" _Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Just thank her and close the subject. _But no, of course he had to keep prying until he knew exactly what she was trying to say. For some reason, this information seemed of utmost importance.

For a moment, she was silent. Then she smiled playfully and briefly patted his shoulder. "Nooope. Sorry. Fishing for more compliments will get you nowhere." Izzy reluctantly returned her grin. Somehow, he knew that she was aware that he wasn't trying to have his ego stroked. She was dodging around the conversation in that swirling, dancing way of hers, passing off her reluctance to continue the subject as feminine mischief. Therefore, her definition of feeling safe was too personal for her to feel comfortable getting into it at the moment.

Izzy briefly passed his free hand through his short hair. There was a faint feeling of awkwardness between them now, and he wasn't sure how to be rid of it. _Women_, he thought, then scolded himself. He was the one who had made this moment uncomfortable with his prying, not her. Fixing it was his responsibility, but how could he manage it? _I suppose there's always reciprocation_, he thought, _but that will require a bit more earnestness than I'd care to display…_

He cleared his throat and resigned himself to the situation. "I…" he began, but his voice trailed off awkwardly, his voice rising from its typical tenor monotone to a harsh, grating squeak. He tsked and looked away, embarrassed by the unattractive, uncomfortable sound he had produced.

"You…?" Amy prodded, tilting her head. The movement made him turn towards her. The sight of her cocking her head like a spaniel, the image complete with her huge brown eyes and silken, dark hair, eased some of the discomfort in his chest. His lips curved upwards of their own volition.

"I feel significantly lighter of heart when I'm with you." And then the words were out in the open, entirely beyond his ability to retract or alter them. He knew that statement wouldn't seem like much to most people, but it had his palms sweating. He was suddenly grateful for her preference for holding onto his arm, rather than his hand.

A soft, shy smile appeared on her face, and Izzy's eyes were drawn to her full lower lip, its decadent shape, its soft, light pink color. She tilted her face away from him, but he could sense her pleasure in the sudden rhythmic sway of her stride.

Their talk gradually turned to other, more commonplace topics as they walked, but that subtle warmth between them remained.

A Few Minutes Later

The two of them had secured their food and dropped off Joe's portion, and were now making themselves comfortable in Amy's room. "I know I have Halo 4 around here somewhere," Amy said as she glanced about, "but where the heck… I bet Tai was in here and tossed it somewhere, ugh, always causing me problems…"

Izzy made an indistinct sound from her desk chair as he watched her. She was moving slowly about the room, swaying her hips in a distracted sort of way, chattering nonstop about possible reasons why the game might have disappeared. "I want to teach you how to play this one… I bet you'd be really good at it, and then we can make a team with Matt and Tai, and we'll kick all kinds of butt!"

"There are different kinds?" Izzy asked lightly, settling into her desk chair and pulling his dinner out of the bag he had carried it back in. The rumbling of his stomach had progressed into a sharp aching sensation, but still, he was more interested in watching her ramble about the room.

"Smartass!" she cried, her tone overflowing with surprised delight. A retort immediately popped into his mind, and he grinned, loving the way they continually, effortlessly set each other up for these sorts of things.

"That is one type, I suppose," he allowed. Peals of snorting laughter cascaded from her lips, and that had him laughing, too. She sounded so ridiculous, he couldn't help himself. She turned to face him, eyes watering with mirth. Then, focus snapped across her face, and she hopped towards her bed, sinking to her knees.

"Awww, whaaaaat, how did it get under here?" she muttered. She pulled a green-rimmed box out and frowned. "No, no, that's Viva Pinata." She tossed the offending article onto her bed. "But there are more way under there… Why are there games under my bed?! Stupid Tai…"

Izzy was beginning to sense that Tai was some sort of catch-all scapegoat for Amy, but, from what he knew of her cousin, there was probably justification for that. "Aww man, they're so far under here," she muttered, shimmying her body for better access to the space beneath her bed. She flattened her upper body against the ground and raised her hips, sticking her head and shoulders below the bed frame.

At first, there were no problems, but then the fabric of her dress hiked up with a sudden movement of her upper body, and Izzy suddenly found himself making an unexpected acquaintance with her tastes in panties. Hot pink, black laced satin was stretched across her generous curves, the saturated hues contrasting deliciously with her alabaster skin. Izzy's brain was instantly abuzz with search-engine like activity, scanning for an appropriate protocol for this situation, but, not surprisingly, nothing useful was forthcoming.

At last, a sane thought broke through his panic and single-minded interest. _Stop staring, fool. It's disrespectful. _There was a strange, reluctant feeling within him as he positioned the chair towards the desk and opened his dinner, turning his attention to the sandwich. He took a bite, but his mouth was so dry that swallowing it was nearly impossible. With his panic and indecision subsiding, he was slowly becoming aware of other thoughts and emotions, some of them embarrassingly base.

_And that, I suppose, is yet another type of ass, _he thought ruefully. The humor edged away another layer of discomfort, and suddenly the aroused state of his body was painfully obvious to him. Izzy nearly choked on his food, but was able to sell it as an innocuous cough that caused no reaction from Amy. His mind flopped right back into an uproar. With the exception of the natural, autonomous shifting of blood during sleep cycles, he hadn't been physically aroused for months now, more than a year, actually. It was amazingly uncommon behavior in a boy his age, he knew, but, with the absence of a romantic partner with a talent for taking what she wanted, sexual thoughts weren't interesting to him. Physical pleasure paled in comparison to mental stimulation, and the female body, while beautiful, could not charm him beyond his stoicism on its own. He found Amy's face sweet and attractive, her body lush and alluring, but he had never lingered over those thoughts for long, finding them inappropriate and uninteresting after a brief period.

So what in the world was happening to him now?

"Aha! Found it!" Amy cried, and he could hear her standing and approaching him. He grit his teeth and said a thousand mental thanks for the desk guarding his lap. She placed the game on her bed, then sat down close to the desk. Izzy handed her dinner over, and she thanked him and popped the container open.

He listened to her explain how Halo 4 worked, trying to let her chirping voice calm him. His eyes looked anywhere but into hers, because, on some instinctive level, he knew that they charmed him more than anything else about her. If she noticed the slight trembling of his hands, she gave no indication.

It was getting harder and harder to convince himself that this relationship was platonic. Ryo's mild baritone seemed to echo about in his head, repeating what he had said earlier today. "_The evidence is overwhelming… She seems like a nice girl… You only live once."_

_I would prefer to live on my terms, _he thought, somewhat savagely. But it seemed that he was no longer in charge of them.

**Author's Note: **Okay, flip side! Uh, I don't know how I feel about today's chapter, other than the encounter with Ryo, which I personally found hilarious because I love Ryo's blasé personality. What did you guys think of today's meandering update? Personally, I think I should maybe avoid this in the future... It just felt like it was starting to drag... We'll definitely have _lots _of excitement in the next update. Please look forward to some Sora/Matt and Joe/Mimi, as well as some rather... interesting distress from Izzy, who, as you might be able to tell, is reaching something of a breaking point within himself. Okay, thanks for reading, please remember what I mentioned about filters and such!


	16. Breaking Points

**Author's Note: **Mmmmwah! That's the sound of a kiss, just so you know. This chapter is rated K for kissy times. Thank goodness, I'm _finally _writing my first kiss under my A Hidden Path title! And I only had two write about a total of 200,000 words (adding all 3 of my current stories up) to get there! -_- In case you didn't know (and, oh, how you will come to know), I am a hopeless romantic, much like Matt XD So, uh, you folks do like romance, right? Because I sure as heck do, LET'S DO THIS THING! [Wait. Phrasing?]

Wait, no, guys. This chapter is rated M. It has three sections. The first two are rated T, same as the rest of the story, so if you don't want M content, you can still read 2/3 of this chapter. The last section is mature, and will be marked as such besides the new scene indicator. I'll recap what happened in plain, polite language in the author's note at the end of the chapter, so that you can follow the story.

Sora knocked on Matt's door and was told, in a distracted, off-hand way, to come in. Matt was hunched over at his desk, surrounded by brightly colored fliers and crumpled pieces of paper. Amy was stretched out on her stomach on Tai's bed, her dark hair forming a curtain around her face, intent on the enormous textbook between her elbows. The hem of her dress was bunched up just below her shapely rear, calling attention to her pale, curvy legs.

Sora tore her eyes away from her roommate, who was absently swishing those incredible legs around, and focused in on Matt. She walked up behind him and looked over his shoulders. "What are you up to?" she asked, glancing at the explosion of paper surrounding him.

"Lyrics," he grunted, rubbing his eyes. Then his body jerked, and he turned around to look at her. "Sora! I'm sorry. I was so into this, I didn't really realize who I was talking to." He dropped his pencil and hastily pulled another sheet of looseleaf towards him, and it did not escape Sora's notice that he was covering his work from her view. Confusion and hurt began to build up inside of her.

Her eyes moved to the colored bits of paper, searching for some distraction. "What's all this?" she asked, picking up the nearest one. Some of the tension dripped out of Matt's body, and he smiled and swiveled his chair to face her.

"Fliers for bands who need a bassist. I'm trying to eliminate some options based on sound clips from their sites. I don't have time to go meet with all of these people in person."

A surge of delight went through Sora, and she clapped her hands automatically. "Oh! You started looking! That's great!" Her hands dropped onto his shoulders, surreptitiously enjoying their width and solidness.

His right hand rose and rested against hers, and she could feel the hard, slightly raised pads of callouses on his fingertips. She shivered a little when they passed over her skin, causing a strange, vaguely ticklish sensation. "I thought so, too, until I actually got into it. It's a mess. No one has the sound I'm looking for. Ideally, I could start my own band again…"

"Don't give up!" Sora cried. "I can't wait to hear your new music!" The fangirl within her was squealing with adolescent excitement, and the world bobbled slightly as she swayed on her heels. Then she realized what she was doing, colored slightly, and tried to reign herself in.

"Sora…" Matt's hand went from touching hers to holding it, and he squeezed gently before letting go. "Thanks." Then he cleared his throat and turned back to the desk. "But I had better finish writing some new songs first," he added in a lighter tone. "Amy, what do you make of what I've got here?"

Sora's pleased, touched smiled fled from her face. Amy acknowledged him with a dreamy humming sound, extending her hand to him without looking. Although she wasn't paying a lick of attention to anything but her textbook, her fingers unerringly moved right to the looseleaf on Matt's desk, reaching over the rhyming dictionary and the fliers. They were just so _aware_ of each other… Sora was certain that there was nothing romantic going on between them now, and that Amy, at least, found the thought vaguely disturbing, but Sora couldn't help but wonder if she could ever be as close to Matt as Amy was. And, what, was she incapable of judging lyrics? She began to pick at her fingernails.

Amy brushed her hair back as she examined the paper. Sora watched, confused, as those dark brown eyes slid from the paper to her, and then to Matt, and then back to the paper. An arched brow rose, then furrowed. "Matt," she said at last, her tone mildly scolding. "If you're going to use Sora as inspiration, then you should be able to come up with something better."

"W-what?!" she and Matt said as one. Matt twirled back around to face his desk, and Sora realized that Amy had picked up the looseleaf that he had hidden from her view earlier. The two of them reached for the papers in Amy's hands, but Matt was closer, and less shy about ripping them out of her grasp, so he was the victor.

Amy looked into Matt's pale, drawn face, then chewed her lower lip viciously. "I… I'm sorry," she muttered, averting her eyes. "Was I not supposed to say that? I just thought it was so obvious, you wouldn't mind my pointing it out." Matt produced an indistinct sound deep in his throat, and Amy began to sit up. "Ah, should I- Okay. Yeah, I'll just… My mistake! See you!" With that, she grabbed her textbook, jumped off of Tai's bed, and half-ran out the door, skidding as she went, totally leaving her shoes behind.

There was a long, strained silence, and then Matt dropped his forehead into his hand, hissing quietly through his teeth. "You could have denied it, you know," Sora said softly, brushing his shoulder with her fingertips. They were shaking slightly. Never, not once in her wildest teenage daydreams, did she ever imagine that Matt would one day write lyrics about her. The dorm room suddenly seemed indistinct and blurry, as if she had wandered into a dream.

"Please," Matt muttered, not looking up from his palm. "You can tell when I'm lying."

"I would have let you get away with this one," she said, smiling gently. Her hands closed firmly around his shoulders. He was either the most or least real thing in the room, but which was it? Words began to tumble out of her mouth, slipping by in a meaningless, babbling stream, filling the space as she tried to make sense of this impossible moment. "I know how men are about their feelings. Well, at least, I _suspect_ I do. I don't suppose I have much experience with-"

Matt cut her off with a sharp hand motion. "Sora. I've had just about enough of this."

Sora frowned and pulled back. She was on the verge of scolding him for being rude when she was trying to soothe the both of them, but then he stood, gently pulled her in, and tipped her chin up. He caressed her face with his long, calloused fingers, and Sora shuddered with the contact. She knew what was coming next- what naturally _had_ to come next- and just the thought of it had her frozen. She was distantly aware that she had to be gaping up at him like an idiot.

With great effort, she rearranged her expression into something less embarrassing, then shifted her hands to his chest. Somehow, she hadn't noticed it before, but he was so much _bigger_ than her. Taller, yes, but also broader all around, and, as his free arm surrounded her, a sense of safety and belonging overwhelmed her, even as her heart sputtered in her chest. He gently flattened her body against his, and his smell washed over her, flooding her nose with sensory input. It was a mix of aftershave and a subtle cologne, an unusual, compelling combination of earthy and spicy scents that had her twitching her face towards his neck. She wanted to bury her nose there and inhale that masculine aroma, but Matt was lightly holding on to her chin, and she didn't want to discourage that contact.

She suddenly realized that she was avoiding his eyes, or was unable to look into them until now. Slowly, shyly, she glanced upwards, and her breath caught at the intense, focused, wildly passionate look there. His eyes seemed to be cycling through shades of blue as she looked them on, now like the sky, now like the sea, now like a peacock, now like an iris, and her brain fizzled out during its attempt to make sense of it. Her legs trembled- really, what was she supposed to _do _with those eyes fastened to her?!- and his hand found the small of her back, supporting her, keeping her upright.

He came closer, but never fully bridged the gap, and her nerves were beginning to fray with a mixture of anticipation, fear, and excitement. Muscles began to tighten in his face, slightly marring his romantic expression with hints of desperation and worry. And, suddenly, Sora understood. He was waiting for some sign that she wanted this.

_Of course I want this. This boy is impossible… And I would never change that about him. _Sora closed her eyes and, taking her courage in both hands, tipped her chin down so slightly that the movement was nearly imperceptible. A nod. Permission. Acceptance. A tremor ran through the warm, slightly toned body pressed against hers.

And then he was on her, surrounding her, and, with her sight limited to inscrutable darkness, the whole world could have been him, him and his warmth, him and his tall, slender-but-trim body, him and the _amazing _smells emanating from his neck. His lips fluttered against hers, gentle and curious, almost like a puppy sniffing someone's hand, trying to decide if this person was safe to interact with. Impossibly, something like frustration flickered through her, and she stood on her toes and squished their mouths together. _You've made me wait this long. Now kiss me, damn it!_

She heard a faint, amused sound from him that rapidly spiraled into a low groan. He was still trying to kiss her politely, carefully, chastely, and her foot stamped of its own volition. She ran her tongue along the edge of his lips, flicking the space between the two of them, and finally, _finally _(although, in truth, they had only been kissing for a few seconds, but her perception of time was entirely skewed at the moment) he gave in and threw his knightly persona out the window. Somehow, he squished their bodies even closer together, taking on the weight of her frame, possessing her, molding her to him. His hands ran over her body, never touching anywhere too intimate, but clearly exploring, feeling, desiring. And she had no words to describe what was happening with their mouths. It was as if he were tasting her, drinking her, running his tongue over the silken inner surfaces of her cheeks, over the rough face of her tongue. It almost seemed like it should have been gross or obscene, but it most definitely was not.

On the whole, she later reflected, it was very fortunate that he held her up the whole time.

When they finally parted, there was a faint soreness to her lips, and she had somehow ended up with traces of his cologne on her hands and face. She was breathing like she did at the end of a tennis match, and it took her a moment to discern where she was, addled as she was by the foreign sensations she had just experienced. She felt unfocused and distant, but, glancing into Matt's face, she could see that he was sharply focused on her face. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his hands were gripping her hips more tightly with each moment.

He leaned over, draping his head by the side of hers, pressing their cheeks together. "Be my girlfriend," he said, and his voice was lower and huskier than she had ever heard it, almost demanding. And, somehow, the arrogance in that demand brought her back to the normal, sane world.

She pulled back from him, tipped her head, and glanced off to the side. "_Well_…" she said, running her fingertips up and down his sides. Tension flooded into his body, and he pulled back from her, so that he was staring down at her, eyes wide and pupils dilated. His nostrils flared, and the pure, undiluted panic in his body and face was painfully obvious. One of Sora's hands went to her heart, drawn to it by the strange swelling feeling there. She hadn't expected her teasing to cause so extreme a response.

_This is incredibly important to him_, she realized. Matt was almost always subtle about his reactions, so there was no other explanation for this behavior. Pressure built up in her throat, and it seemed almost as if she were choking. She rested her forehead against his collarbone and put her arms around him. "That sounds nice."

A strained, gasping hiss slipped out of him, and he slumped so that his rear was resting on his desk. Papers crinkled beneath him, but he didn't seem to care. "Sora," he breathed, tilting his head back. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"I'm sorry!" She tightened her hold on him and kissed his neck. "I was just teasing you, like-"

"Like the first time I asked you out," Matt finished. "I realize that now." His hands rubbed absent circles against the small of her back, gently pushing her into him. They were too close for her to see his face, but his cheek was resting against her head, and she could feel his muscles forming a smile.

"You know," Sora said, tilting her head and sighing. "I feel like you made me wait forever."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to do this right. It was too important to rush, to mess up." He cupped her face with her hands, tilted her head towards him, and caught her eyes with his. "I hope it was worth the wait. I know it was, for me."

Sora opened her mouth to reply, but nothing coming close to real, intelligible words was forthcoming. He had regained his normal confidence, poise, and slight arrogance, and his smile bordered on being a smirk. His eyes lowered and settled into an icy, glacial shade of blue as he leaned back down towards her.

She never did answer, although of course it would have been a yes. Kissing him was much more interesting.

Another Day

Mimi was painting her nails and jabbering into her cell phone when someone knocked timidly on her door. "It's open!" she called, pressing her cheek into her shoulder to keep the phone in place.

The door opened slowly, and Joe stepped in, smiling in a stiff, hesitant way. Mimi blinked, promised to call her friend back later, and sat the phone down, being careful not to touch anything with her wet nails.

"Howdy, stranger." She waggled her fingers at him in greeting. "Long time, no see. Did you forget about me?" The sentence ended in an attractive little pout, but the truth was that she _had _missed him during his week-long study frenzy, much more than she had expected to. She had filled her time with other friends, a party or three, dancing, karaoke, shopping... But, somehow, the constant noise and flutter of people hadn't seemed as sparkling and exciting as usual. She had found herself longing for just a little quiet here and there, a moment where dark eyes watched her as she spoke, absorbing more than they let on.

Joe gave her a blank stare, and then he began to laugh quietly. "Now, that's unlikely," he said, shaking his head and sitting on her desk chair. He spoke quietly and offhandedly, as if no one were listening. Mimi leaned closer, trying to process this. Compliments were usually delivered deliberately, with solid eye contact, so that the boy could judge her reaction. In contrast, Joe seemed to have no idea that he was being sweet, or that she had even heard him. He sounded almost… annoyed, tormented, as if… As if to suggest that he hadn't enjoyed their time apart, either.

A wicked smile creased her face. "Joe," she said, lifting her feet. "I'm going to paint my toenails. Would you mind helping me?" She wiggled her tiny, cute toes at him, and he blinked down at them.

"Uh..." he said, scooting the chair closer. "Sure, I guess. What do you need me to do? I have to warn you, I've, uh, never painted nails before. I'm not sure if you'd want-"

"Of course I don't want you to paint them." Mimi rolled her eyes playfully. "I have an image to maintain. I want you to help hold me steady." And, with that, she aimed her foot towards his lap, tilting it at the most advantageous angle possibly, showcasing the curves of her leg, subtly pulling her skirt up a little as she moved.

Joe colored instantly, and delight burst through her chest. _This boy has the cutest reactions I have ever seen. _She was tired of receiving self-satisfied smirks when she flirted, of boys raising an eyebrow suggestively, as if they had received an invitation that she hadn't given. And she was tired of laughers and gawkers. This combination of nerves, of obvious admiration mixed with doubt that she was paying him attention, was a new, welcome experience.

But he made no move to touch her. _He could use some confidence, though, _she thought, but no matter. Thankfully, she wasn't shy about getting what she wanted. She poked one of his hands with her foot. He make a small choking sound, then slowly moved his fingers towards her, as if her leg were a pit bull, and he wasn't entirely convinced that it wouldn't bite.

Finally, he closed one palm a few inches above her ankle, then eased the rest of her lower leg against his lap, testing her balance before releasing her. "You're steady?" he asked, even though he had already made sure of that. Touched, Mimi smiled and leaned towards him.

"I'm good. Could you spread my toes for me while I paint them? Careful not to tickle me." She winked, picked up her nail polish, and tilted her upper body over her leg, so that she was very much in his personal space. Joe made an indistinct noise and did as she asked, his touch explorative and feather-light.

His eyebrows flew up. "You're really soft," he muttered, sounding shocked, almost suspicious.

Mimi laughed, her high-pitched voice rising in clear, dainty trills. "You act like you've never touched a girl before!" A muscle twitched in Joe's face, and Mimi tipped her head, unable to believe what he seemed to be implying. "You... Haven't you ever had a girlfriend?" she asked. His fingers tightened slightly around her foot, and Mimi busied herself with opening the nail polish, unable to watch the discomfort that she seemed to have caused.

"N-No," he said at last. Then he cleared his throat and began to run his fingers over her foot and ankle. _Nerves_, Mimi realized. She recognized those kinds of twitches from watching Amy, who was just as neurotic as Joe. But Amy never caressed anyone with her ticks. Joe's hands, however, were absently applying pressure against her curves, tracing them, accurately stimulating areas that seemed to make her muscles relax. She sat the bottle of nail polish down. This was _much_ more interesting.

Mimi closed her eyes and breathed deeply, willing herself not to react, not to give him a signal that would make him realize what he was doing. "I'm surprised," she said, exhaling in a long, relaxed sigh. "You're a nice, cute guy." Then, realizing that she had set herself up for the perfect chance, she caught his eyes and smiled, probably more fiercely than she should have. "But, I guess that's what happens when you never _step up to the base_."

Joe blanched, laughed nervously, and increased the speed of his roaming fingers. "Plate, Mimi," he corrected, fixing his eyes on some random point on her dorm wall. "_Plate_." And, somehow, being corrected when she was trying to give him a hint annoyed her.

"Plate, base, whatever, who cares!" she snapped. "The point is that you-"

"Want to ask you on a date," Joe blurted, and his grip on her tightened, almost to the point of pain. He lifted her leg without seeming to realize it, and she teetered. Joe exclaimed, leaned forward, and grabbed her around the waist, knocking her legs to the side. "S-s-sorry!"

Mimi knew an opportunity when she saw one, and so, despite the fact that she was in no danger of falling off her bed, she produced a startled sound and clung to him. Her eyebrows flew upward at the solidness, the broadness of his upper back. He was no athlete, and certainly no body builder, but he wasn't insubstantial or scrawny. She suddenly remembered that he always, always carried approximately fifty pounds of textbooks on his person, slung over his shoulders and back, and things started to make sense. _Nerd muscles, _she thought, fighting down a giggle.

"_Finally!_" she cried, splaying her hands on his chest. She wagged a finger at him. "I'll excuse it this time, but don't you ever keep me waiting again. Understood?"

Joe's body couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to go white or red. He ended up blanched, with scattered red splotches, and Mimi watched in amazement, wondering what that was about. "I, I'll try," he managed, "but I'm not very good with signals. If you just tell me what you want..."

Mimi couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Oh, believe me, I will." She had a history of complaining, of pointing out when some want or need was not being fulfilled, and of expecting someone else (usually a boy) to take care of it. This was a trait that had softened a tad over the last few years, mostly because she didn't like waiting, and she liked results. Sometimes doing it yourself was the only way. But those impulses still remained. "We'll have to see if you can handle me."

Joe slid his face into his palm and groaned, but his other arm went around her waist and pulled her in. She couldn't help but wonder if he was aware of it. When he lifted his face, his expression was more distant and dreamy than she had ever seen it. His free arm joined its brother around her body. "What am I getting myself into," he breathed, and he sighed, long and low.

"Well," Mimi chirped brightly, leaning into him and laying her head on his shoulder, "they say what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger!" She couldn't help the bubbly giggle that followed.

"Greeeeeat," Joe drawled. But she caught a glimpse of his smile before she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, which was running soothingly through her hair.

Mimi sighed with contentment and rubbed her head against his hand, happy as puppy being pet. "I believe in you, Joe," she said, settling into his lap.

"Well, that makes one of us." The words were pessimistic, but his tone was not. It was warm and edged with humor and affection, an uncommon amount of positive emotions, at least for him.

_I'm good for him, _she realized, and the thought had her opening her eyes and looking into his. _He's good for me. This isn't just one of those mutual attraction things. _She must have been looking at him strangely, because he tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?" he asked, and his voice went higher with anxiety. Mimi hastened to make a soothing hand gesture.

"No, no. I was just thinking, we should decide where we're going on our date!" He blinked at her for a moment, then nodded and exhaled, and the tension slid out of his body.

"Alright. Let's do that, then."

Mimi smiled, hopped up, and brought him her tiny pink netbook. Then she laughed as she watched Joe try to fit his huge hands on the tiny keyboard, as his shoulders scrunched up and he started muttering increasingly annoyed phrases. She stood and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he stiffened and broke into nervous laughter. Mimi swallowed the tinkling laugh that was working its way up from her diaphragm.

_This boy really is too fun._

Another Day (Contains **Mature** Content)

Izzy was slowly becoming aware of a sense of growing urgency and pleasure building up within him, aware of the warmth of a body beneath him, aware of a low, lulling voice moaning softly into his ear. But the sensations were coming to him sluggishly, reluctantly, as if a thick, opaque veil was separating his mind from his body.

Frowning with confusion, Izzy tried to gather his thoughts, but it was like running his hand through smoke; the more he struggled, the more they spread out and away. Then, with no explanation, a moment of clarity passed, and a spike of sweet, thrumming pleasure rolled over his frame. He gasped, shivered appreciatively, and lowered his face into the curving neck below him. His lips traced faint, feather-light kisses over that heated, straining skin, working their way up to a jaw, and then an ear, where he paused.

"Amy," he breathed. His intention was to speak the name of the girl laying beneath him, accepting his body with hers, but he realized that he didn't know where he was, who he was with, or how he had come to be there. Blinking, he pulled back and squinted, trying to see through the indistinct haze that clouded his vision. But, really, who else could it be? These days, his body was practically incapable of arousal without input from her.

His sight cleared by degrees, and he gradually made out a slim body with a tan worthy of Hollywood and a gorgeous, starlet face with dark eyes, framed by thick, black hair. Recognition slammed into him, and his throat seemed to close in on itself. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't even recoil from the bed and free himself from this disaster.

"What's wrong?" Shauna demanded, and her dark voice fluttered slightly, as it sometimes did during intimacy. "Come on, Izzy. It was just starting to get good."

Izzy's jaw locked, and he was unable to cry out, to rail at her, to demand how this ruin had come to pass. His muscles were stiff and unresponsive, despite the fact that they had been working in smooth, striding motions just a moment ago. His heart hammered in his chest, not with desire or exertion, but with shame, with horror, and with sickening fear. Finally, sheer panic punctured through whatever mysterious force held him down, and he began to pull away, desperately looking anywhere but at the girl underneath him.

Tiny, hesitant hands closed around his wrists, gently pulling him back. And that surprised him; Shauna was not one to be shy about what she wanted. But still, he would not look, would not hesitate. He had to get out of here, wherever here was, and the sooner, the better.

"Please, don't go," she whispered, and Izzy's head turned towards her voice. For some reason, it had changed, going from warm, low, and thick to clear, sweet, and bright, with a pronounced, musical lilt. His heart seemed to shiver with delight and anticipation inside of him. He turned his glance cautiously towards the hands holding him back. They were so pale that they seemed luminous and ghostly.

Finally, his eyes moved to her face, landing on the entrancing orbs that he had recently grown so familiar with. Automatically, it seemed, his hips moved forward, not stopping until they impacted hers, and could go no further. She tipped her head back and produced a sound that was part gasp, part moan, and part dulcet sigh. It was the most arousing thing he had ever heard, and he willed himself to commit that singular vocalization to memory.

Her hands released his wrists, and she wrapped her arms around his upper back, gently hugging him, pulling him in. He went without argument. "Amy," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers, heedless of the sheen of sweat covering both of them. The strain and panic that had just been coursing through him seemed like a distant memory now. Suddenly, understanding where he was and how he had gotten there seemed unimportant, so long as they were safe and she was happy. And, judging by the rosy hue rapidly building beneath her pale skin and the increasingly desperate moans tripping from between her lips, she was _very_ happy.

He was distantly becoming aware that a bright, golden-yellow light was pouring over them, although he couldn't say where it came from, since the features of the room were a mystery to him. His senses began to blur again, and he clung to Amy instinctively, although he wasn't sure if his intention was to ground himself, to protect her, or to decrease the likelihood of their separation. Then there was an overwhelming sensation of release and fierce pleasure, and he clamped his teeth together, trying to hold in the exclamation clawing up his throat. His thoughts blanked entirely, and, for a few moments, he was aware of nothing but the sharp, relentless bliss caused by the potent mixture of neural signals and hormones pouring through his body.

When his faculties returned, he found that he was on his back, and that morning light was assaulting his eyes, making him squint. Confused and disoriented, he raised himself to his elbows and glanced about. He swiftly realized that he was in his dorm room, and that he had made something of a mess. That serene, post-release mood fled in an instant, and he found himself mentally cursing in a constant, biting stream. The details of the dream replayed in his mind, and he grit his teeth and grimaced.

_Aren't dreams supposed to be subtle? _he asked himself, fuming at his own subconscious processes. _And what am I supposed to do about my underwear? _He looked over at Joe's bed and found that he was mercifully still asleep. Sighing deeply, Izzy slunk out of bed and towards his closet, stripping down to the thin shorts he wore over his boxer briefs. It was much earlier than he typically rose, but he wasn't getting back to sleep in his current state, so he went through his morning pre-shower ritual, burying the sticky underwear inside a towel in his hamper. Soon, he was slipping out of the room and towards the bathroom, clutching his basket of hygiene supplies with one hand and the towel around his waist with the other.

Izzy took a much longer shower than usual, trying to let the hot water soothe his taut, strained muscles. He recalled reading somewhere that erotic dreaming was sometimes the result of repressed sexual desires, and it was true that he hadn't provided himself with any physical release for a long, long time. It was atypical behavior for a boy his age, he knew, but, until recently, his mind simply didn't wander in that direction very often, and, when it did, he was able to snuff the urge without much trouble. And, at any rate, the pleasure would only be spoiled with memories of moments of intimacy with a person he no longer held in regard.

_But perhaps, _his mind whispered, _you could substitute any passing memories of her with thoughts of Amy. Surely, then, you wouldn't find that sort of pleasure shameful. _Then he shook his head violently, pounding a fist against the warming tiles around him. _No! I do not want Amy! _he told himself forcefully. _And, even if I did, it would be rude to think of her like that without her permission. _

He tried to tell himself that the dream wasn't worth paying attention to, that, at its most symbolic, it was merely an expression of his body's pent-up sexual frustration. But then he remembered the way dream Amy had pulled him in and groaned, had eagerly shifted her hips against his, had softly asked him to stay, and he found himself fighting down a half hysterical exclamation. His brain seemed to be divided into two camps: one that scorned the notion that he wanted Amy, romantically, physically, or otherwise, and one that was beating him over the head, screaming that of course he wanted her, that he was being a fool to deny it, that he had been given proof of his interest over and over and over again.

And that moment with dream Shauna was too dangerous, too infuriating to even dwell upon.

The water was uncomfortably cold by the time he turned it off, but he had only calmed marginally. If only this were a math problem, some logical fallacy to dissect, some program error that he could fix…! Then he could throw his mind into it for a while, work out the trouble, and move on to something else. But no, it was emotional, it was highly personal, and, to create the perfect trifecta of awkwardness and irrationality, it was obviously sexual now. Izzy shuddered as he came to that last point.

As he toweled his shivering body dry, all he could do was dwell upon how lost and uncomfortable he felt.

**Author's Note: **Okay, here's my recap of the last section. Izzy has an erotic dream where he thinks he's with Amy, but he's with Shauna, who then, in mysterious dream fashion, turns into Amy as soon as he tries to leave. This messes with the poor boy's head, and causes him to go into something of a… Well, the evidence of his rising sexuality, which is typically repressed and/or simply not strong, makes him very uncomfortable, we'll put it that way.

So much romance in this chapter, guys! I have no idea if I handled it alright or not, this kind of stuff is so hard to imagine. The way in which two people interact is almost like a whole new character in and of itself… I hope you guys buy what I'm giving you, hahaha, I don't even know if I do! This stuff is hard!

Oh, in other news, I'm working on some art for my stories. I do draw, I'm not that good, but I'm not bad either… I'm okay. I'm making a tumblr for it. So stay tuned for some drawings of Izzy and Amy from Four Years and some drawings of Eimi and Galemon from Growing Up with You, which is what I happened to have lined up at the moment, although I still need to color my line art.

Let's see, next chapter hints… It mostly focuses on Tai, reacting to what happened in today's chapter with Matt and Sora (and seriously, Tai dropped off the planet for the last few chapters, didn't he?). There are going to be two other smaller scenes, one where Mimi takes Amy shopping and one where Sora drags most of the crew to the thrift store to prepare for Halloween. Please look forward to it!


	17. The Day After Mardi Gras Sucks

**Author's Note: **In which Tai finds out about Matt and Sora. And also, some Izzy, because I can't seem to help myself XD

Tai drummed the eraser of his pencil against his notebook and sighed. He glared at the paper, as if it were personally responsible for the essay he had to do, and he could intimidate it into retracting the assignment. This sort of task was so easy for Amy, and Kari was pretty good at it, too. But his thoughts were like tennis balls flying around in the air, unordered, chaotic, bouncing about so much that they continually lost bits of their momentum. He released his breath in a huff that sounded remarkably similar to a horse's snort.

Amy had placed out of the basic English composition class with her SAT scores, but Matt was in his class, so he swiveled his desk chair around. He intended to ask his roommate how he was doing with his essay, but he froze when he saw Matt's face. The bassist was lying on his bed, eyes closed, body motionless. His expensive headphones cupped his ears, and he was smiling serenely, occasionally nodding his head, presumably to the music. Every once in a while, he seemed to laugh silently, his mouth opening into a wide grin.

_What the hell is this? _When he wasn't in his stage persona, Matt had a tendency to stand in the background, shoulders relaxed and low, quietly observing the world. He often didn't speak unless spoken to, except to make the occasional sarcastic comment or mildly caustic joke. And he _definitely _didn't go around smiling like a teenage girl with a new Prada bag. Was it Prada? He could never remember that kind of thing.

"What the hell, Matt," he said, lowering his brow against his eyes. "Did the black, girl-fit jeans store just announce a half off sale?" Tai didn't realize that he had said something funny until it was out of his mouth, and he laughed with genuine amusement at his own joke.

"Piss off," Matt said automatically, but he laughed, and the sound was much more open and cheerful than usual. His eyes opened, and he sat up and removed his headphones, smiling all the while. He tilted his head, clearly inviting him to clarify. And since when did Matt invite questions? _This is getting weirder by the second, _Tai thought, drawing away from his friend.

"I think there's a phrase for this," Tai said, frowning as he tried to remember it. "You're, uh, _glowing_. Something good happen?"

Matt snorted and started laughing again, and Tai rolled his chair back, unable to understand his amusement. "You usually say that to pregnant women," Matt explained when he recovered. "But, anyway, yeah-"

But he broke off with a slight sputtering sound, and most of the animation fled from his expression. His complexion went a little white, and his hands began to toy with the headphones around his neck.

At this point, Tai was hopelessly lost. Matt was acting moodier than Amy did when riding the USS PMS. "Dude, what's your problem?" he asked, running his fingers anxiously through his hair. Anxiety was extremely uncommon for him, but, then, he trusted Matt to have his back. His confidence was at least slightly based on the belief that he could always, always count on his best friend, and Matt seemed kind of crazy at the moment. Matt was the sensible half of their team, so that was bad news.

"Tai. I have to tell you something." And suddenly, he was the same old Matt that Tai knew. His eyes went hyper-focused, and his tone was low and serious, overflowing with his typical care and caution. The only strange thing was the nerves thrumming through his voice. Matt was the very definition of a cool customer, so something drastic must have gone down to put him in this state. But, then, why all the joy earlier?

"You're confusing the hell out of me," Tai said, throwing himself to his feet. He sat beside Matt on his bed and laid a hand on his shoulder. Tai got a lot more information out of physical contact than he could from words and visual cues, and the tenseness of Matt's body was worrying him. "You okay?"

"I'm… I'm great, actually," Matt said. For a brief moment, that huge grin resurfaced, but Matt seemed to push it down. "I just… A few days ago…" He hesitated, and Tai was unable to handle this kind of indecision from his best friend. And, of course, there was his patented impatience to consider.

"Whatever you're trying to say, just say it already!" Tai ordered. He shook Matt's shoulder, and his friend's upper body swayed with the force. As usual, he had underestimated his own strength, but Matt didn't react. His face was drawn.

"Tai… Sora and I are a couple."

For a moment, the words seemed like gibberish. His mind was reluctant to absorb them, and they lingered beyond his understanding for as long as possible. His brain held them back like an archer holding the straining string of a bow, trying to delay that deadly moment when his fingers slipped and the arrow flew.

But Tai was no coward, and he would only hide for so long, even subconsciously. Matt's statement made its way through his filters, made its way to his core, and he stared stupidly at the bassist for a moment, too shocked to do more.

"You... You're the first person I've told," Matt continued, and Tai noticed that his hands were quickly clenching and unclenching. "Tai, I'm sorry."

Tai snorted and crossed his arms, trying desperately to fight down the disappointment and anger rising up inside of him. "Hey. The winning team doesn't apologize after the game." He clapped Matt on the back, perhaps just a bit harder than he would have under different circumstances. "Congrats. I'd say I'm happy for you, but... That's going to take some time." He allowed just a taste of his strained emotions into his tone. Matt would get suspicious if he behaved too cheerfully, but he was very much unwilling to get all weepy on him. He held his hand out to his friend, trying to convey that there were no hard feelings. Which was a bit of a lie, as there were, but they would fade.

Matt's eyes widened a little, and Tai knew he was surprised at how well he was taking this. But, the truth was, deep down, Tai had been expecting it. From the very beginning, Sora's preference for Matt was obvious, despite the trouble Tai went through to convince himself that it was a minor setback. He was more prepared for this moment than either of them could have expected.

"I understand," Matt said. He grasped his hand and shook. "Don't take this the wrong way, but… I really appreciate how well you're taking this."

Tai shrugged and glanced away, slightly embarrassed by Matt's praise. It was partially because he was pleased, but also because he felt he didn't deserve it, what with the black emotions growing inside of him. "Well, whatever. We all have to grow up eventually, I guess." Then he forced a grin. "But maybe not today. Adam mentioned that he's having another party. I'm going to kill some time with a run and then head on over."

Matt's brow lowered immediately. "Tai. It's a weeknight. Don't go crazy." He paused and passed his eyes slowly over his face. Something about the way his lips tightened told Tai that his best friend was seeing through his brave front. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I've felt better," Tai allowed. "But I'll live." He stood and shoved his feet into the pair of running shoes thrown into the corner of the room, making general, vague replies to the rest of Matt's concerned inquiries.

_The damn essay can wait, _he thought as he slipped out of the dorm room.

At the Party

Tai was generally at his most social and suave at a party, making jokes and easing into conversations like a pro, commanding attention with his antics and energy. The universal intoxication worked to his advantage, making him seem more personable than usual. But, tonight, he was surly and taciturn.

He was standing in the corner of the frat house Adam belonged to, drinking straight, 100 proof rum and staring around the room with frightening, hard eyes. He brushed off the few people who first approached him, and, soon, his slight snubbing turned into faint snarls.

He was furious with himself. Part of him wanted to be mad at Matt, who always seemed to get exactly what he wanted, and often at the expense of other boys, if unintentionally. But the truth was that Matt had only done what he had done: tried to win a girl. Just because he had won was no reason to hate him. Even he, hardheaded as he often was, could see that. The only target here was himself.

Giving it some serious thought, Tai knew now that Sora had never even noticed his interest. He had acted too much like a friend, always asking to play sports with her or meeting up with her at fast food places, often at the open invitations that she frequently made to all of her friends. The presumably romantic dinners that Matt had asked her out to from the beginning never happened between the two of them, because he never asked. At the time, he had been too fascinated with her athletic abilities and too in awe of her beauty and kindness to think things through. And, so, single-minded idiot that he was, he had thrown himself into opportunities to see her moving her body, so lost in his attraction to her that he failed to play the dating game properly.

_Amy would freak if she knew how focused I was on Sora's... _He grimaced and tried to phrase the thought more politely. _If she knew how physical my attraction to Sora was. _And, the sad part was, despite the fact that he still only had an acquaintance's understanding of Sora's personality, the loss of her hurt deeply.

Tai had lost girls to Matt before. Or, rather, the female student body at his school was almost universally devoted to Matt and his bandmates, and so it was almost impossible to get anywhere with them. But this hurt the most, and he had no explanation for it. All he really knew was that he wanted this feeling gone, and the sooner, the better.

He downed the remaining contents of his red plastic cup in one long, continuous swill.

_In the future, I'll be better with girls, _he vowed to himself. _I'll get my head out of the gutter and in the game. And I'll be more careful with my own feelings. But tonight... Tonight is my Mardi Gras. I'll be as reckless and immature as I want to be._

He would later realize that this thought was one of the last things he remembered about the party.

Later that Night

Izzy was sleeping, somewhat fitfully, when a loud, piercing sound pulled him rudely into the waking world. He sat straight up in bed, covered his ears with his palms, and grunted, too disoriented to be any more coherent than that.

"Get up!" Joe's voice demanded from across the room. Izzy looked in that direction, but the room was pitch black. Then, there was a faint click, and artificial light flooded the room from the panels in the ceiling. Izzy hissed and closed his eyes, shielding them from the sudden illumination.

"Izzy!" Joe shouted, his voice going shrill with his attempt to be heard over the wailing from the hallway. "That's the fire alarm, come on already!"

"I know," Izzy muttered automatically, although, in truth, he was just now waking up enough to make sense of things. He threw his legs over the side of his bed and stepped down. Joe tapped his foot impatiently, eyes slightly wide and wild.

Izzy glanced over at his friend. "You'll be wanting more than your shoes, Joe. It's three in the morning in the middle of October. At least put on a coat." He staggered over to his dresser, slow with the remnants of sleep, and tugged a drawer open. His hands found a pair of sweatpants that he had never worn; there weren't his style, even when he was relaxing alone. But they were loose enough that he could effortlessly pull them on over his cotton shorts, so on they went. Then he groped around for his green fleece pullover, shoved his feet into shoes, and grabbed a coat. By the time he was ready, Joe had thrown on some more clothing, too.

They slipped into the hallway and down the stairs, joining the crowd of students in various levels of disarray and alertness. There was a lot of disgusted cursing involved. Joe's quick stride and constant glancing about indicated that he was worried about the fire, but Izzy knew the odds of an actual emergency were low. It was much more likely that someone had gotten drunk and fallen against the alarm, or some variation of that theme. And so, he was much more annoyed than concerned.

Soon they were outside, standing some distance from the dorm, caught in the middle of a massive, chattering crowd of students in pajamas. Izzy shivered and wrapped his arms around his upper body, very much grateful that he had thought to put on extra clothing. The slight nip of the October days was a constant, bone-biting cold at night. He took a step closer to Joe, although the movement was too slight for him to benefit from his roommate's body heat.

"There she is," Joe muttered, his voice heavy with relief. Izzy stood straight, trying to get a look at whatever had caught Joe's eye, but he was too short to see over the throng of disgruntled students. He followed his friend into the crowd, trotting in the spaces that the taller boy created as he passed.

Soon, they were approaching Mimi, who was huddled up with Amy. "Oh, you're too cold to be any help!" she whined, even as she squeezed Amy against her.

"M-m-men are warmer than w-women," Amy replied. "You're cold, too."

Sora and Matt were embracing a few steps behind her, and Izzy felt his brow rise. It would appear that the tension between the two of them, which had been sufficiently strong for him to notice, had resolved into something more defined. Either that, or they were flirting shamelessly. He couldn't say. He didn't know anything about this sort of thing. Sora shivered violently in his arms, and Matt sighed and drew her in closer. "Some ass leaves his Poptart in the toaster for too long, and we all end up outside in the middle of the night," he muttered. "Stay classy, college." Sora laughed, but it sounded high and strange, no doubt because of the cold gripping her slight body.

They were coming closer to Amy's group, and Joe called Mimi's name. She looked up and smiled, immediately breaking away from Amy and going to him. "Joeeee," she sang, holding her arms out. "I'm so _cold_. Let me in your coat." And, so saying, she unzipped his coat, stepped inside, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Did you neglect to mention something to me?" Izzy whispered from behind Joe. His friend waved a hand at him, saying, quite clearly, that he didn't want to bothered at the moment. Either way, the evidence seemed fairly conclusive; Joe and Mimi had advanced their slow, trepid relationship.

Amy was staring dolefully at Mimi's back. She turned to Matt, rubbing her upper arms rapidly with her palms. "Where the h-heck is Tai?" she asked, raising an arched brow at him. He lifted his face from Sora's cheek, looking slightly annoyed at the distraction. But, unless Izzy was much mistaken, it seemed to him that Matt's bothered look was a bit forced, as if it were meant to hide some other one.

"At a party," Matt supplied. Then he buried his face right back where it was before.

"A p-party? At this hour?" Amy echoed, her teeth chattering slightly. "It's after three AM. On a W-Wednesday. Well, Thursday, now." She shifted her glance and sighed, but, somewhere along that movement, her eyes landed on him. "Oh! H-hi Izzy." Her lips twitched into a smile, but it morphed into a grimace as her teeth started clicking together.

He smiled in return and made his way over to her. Something nudged his ankle as he passed Joe, and he glanced at him. Apparently, Mimi had tapped him with her foot, and she was staring at him. She tilted her head towards Amy pointedly. _Help a girl out, _her expression seemed to say. Her lips twisted into a wicked smile as she rested her cheek against Joe's chest. He willed himself not to react, to keep his expression passive, to keep moving at the same pace.

_I don't see why this is deteriorating into some kind of...cuddling party, _Izzy thought, somewhat tartly. _Can't these people keep their relationships discreet? There are other ways to warm a woman._

Once he was beside Amy, he began to pull his arms out of his coat. Amy tipped her head to the side, watching him curiously. When he had it off, he handed it to her wordlessly. Cold air instantly settled on his pullover, but he managed to ward off the urge to shudder. Amy's expression softened, but she made no move to take it. "Izzy... That's so... T-thank you. But I'm already wearing a coat. I don't think I can get yours on over mine.

_Ah. Yes, of course. I'm an idiot. _He nodded sheepishly and put the coat back on, grateful that the warmth he had already generated in the fabric hadn't entirely dissipated yet. His feet shifted uncomfortably. "I don't suppose there's something else I could do for you," he said, somehow making the phrase sound more like a statement than a question. He suddenly realized that it made him sound standoffish, as if he wanted to hear a no, and his lips twitched downward. That familiar sense of frustration with his lack of social polish began to rise, and his eyes moved towards the ground, as if that would make him less visible.

"Oh, my God," Mimi cried, her voice high and slightly grating with annoyance. "Just hug her already, this is painful to watch!"

Izzy felt his eye twitch. He willed himself to pretend that he had heard nothing, but his embarrassment and annoyance made him want to lash out, to defend himself with a little vitriol thrown in for good measure. He remembered how Ryo Hiraki had identified his defensiveness as a sign that he was interested in Amy, and that convinced him to keep quiet. The last thing he needed was someone saying something similar.

Amy's eyes were staring into his, no doubt seeing more than he would have thought possible. "I'm fine," she said quickly. She opened her mouth to continue, but paused as a cheerful little tune sounded. Frowning, she pulled her cellphone out of her pocket, then pressed it to her face. "Tai. Why are you still out? Is something wrong?"

Curious, Izzy slipped closer, tipping his head towards the phone. He could faintly hear a male voice on the other line, but, unless he was very much mistaken, it wasn't Tai. "Hey. Sorry, I know this is random, but... It's Adam."

Shuddering, Amy reached for him, wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling him against her. Discomfort instantly rose within him, as he didn't care for public displays of affection, but he couldn't seem to do more than edge away slightly. Amy didn't notice it, as her attention was riveted on the call she was taking. "Oh, uh!" she chirped. "Hi, Adam? Uh, why are you calling from Tai's number?"

There was a slow, burdened sigh on the opposite line. "That would be because he's too drunk to walk straight. Can you get Matt for me? I tried him already, but it went to voicemail."

Amy closed her eyes and tilted her head back, releasing her breath in a slow, strained hiss. Her body went rigid against his, and her distress convinced him to put an arm around her. This all seemed rather strange. His understanding was that Tai liked to party, but that he was sensible about it, more or less. So, why the sudden weeknight binging?

"Tai... Somehow, I had the feeling something was up with him. Matt must have left his phone in his room. There's a fire... Or a fire drill... It doesn't matter. Hold on just a sec." She lowered the phone and turned towards her friend. "Matt! Matt, Tai's at a frat party with Adam, at the same place we went earlier this semester. He's too drunk to get himself home."

When Matt raised his head, Izzy immediately discerned a mixture of worry and guilt on his face. He released Sora and extended his hands to Amy, who tossed her phone over to him. It landed squarely in his palms, and he put it to his ear and began to make arrangements to get Tai back home. This wasn't particularly of interest to Izzy, so he returned his attention to Amy.

"Do you think something's amiss with Tai? I know he can be a bit... foolhardy, but I'm surprised to hear that he's too inebriated to function in the middle of the week." Amy's free hand gently pulled him around, so that they were facing each other. Her body moved in against his, but her eyes were watching Matt.

"Something's wrong, all right. I think... Well, no one's said anything to me officially, but I think Matt and Sora just got together, and..." She hesitated and lowered her tone to a whisper, moving her lips compellingly close to his ear. "Don't tell anyone, but… Tai seemed to like her an awful lot."

_Ah. Well. Romantic drama. A common enough issue among college students. _"I see. I'm sorry to hear that." And, he was. Although their relationship hadn't gotten off to the best start, Izzy had to admit that he didn't dislike Tai. In fact, if it weren't for Tai's tendency to stick his nose in his business, he would even go so far as to say that he liked him. They were thrown together over dinner and video games due to their mutual connection to Amy, and Izzy enjoyed Tai's light-hearted antics and respected his way of accepting everyone. Tai felt genuine compassion for people, although it was buried slightly beneath a veneer of surface temper and bravado. There was a lot to admire there, but also a lot that tested Izzy's patience.

Amy's attention finally shifted to him, and she seemed to notice for the first time that they had somehow joined the ranks of couples huddled together like motley penguins. Her fingers gripped the back of his coat. "Did I- I'm sorry-" She began to pull back from him, but, biting his cheek and throwing his pride to the wind, he held on to her, keeping her where she was. He couldn't say that he enjoyed doing this in public, but he _was _warmer, and he couldn't leave her cold when it was in his power to help.

"It's perfectly fine. I don't mind. There's no sense in us being cold when we could easily be warm. Assuming you're comfortable like this, of course." He suddenly realized the folly of exerting any kind of physical force on her, and his grip slackened at once. "It's your choice," he emphasized.

Amy stared down at him for a moment, then tightened her hold, leaning forward slightly to combat their difference in height. "Well, you _are _nice and warm," she said. Then her voice lowered. "And... I could use... I'm worried about Tai." Somehow, huddling for warmth turned into an embrace, and he found his cheek lightly pressed against her clavicle. Her short, pudgy fingers absently went through his hair, and the touch against his scalp felt slightly alien, but oddly pleasant. He was vaguely aware of sensing something pounding nearby, and he surreptitiously shifted his cheek towards the source, coming somewhere near the center of her body. The further in that direction he moved, the more certain he became that the faint drumming sound was coming from her chest, from beneath her skin, although it was a bit difficult to discern through her coat.

His breath caught as he identified it as her heart, working fast and hard beneath her breast. Some tiny part of his mind, some bold, previously unexplored region of that incomparable gray matter, was quietly suggesting that he plumb this reaction, that he experiment. If he laid his hands on her bare skin, if he reached for her face, would her heart rate accelerate further? Or was this phenomenon unrelated to him?

But before he could make up his mind, Matt approached, holding out Amy's phone. Those piercing, blue eyes moved from her face to his, then narrowed slightly. The bassist raised an eyebrow at him, and Izzy forced his expression to remain static. He pulled back slightly from Amy, but didn't release her.

Matt continued to stare as he spoke, and Izzy tried not to frown. This was why he preferred discretion. "I'm going to pick up Tai," Matt said. "Between the two of us, Adam and I should be able to push his ass into one of those after-hours shuttles."

Amy nodded and slipped her phone back into her pocket. "Alright. I'll take care of him tonight. If Sora's okay with it, you can take my bed."

Matt hesitated, running his fingers through his hair. "Are... Are you sure about that, Amy? Getting him home's going to be a lot easier than dealing with him tonight. Adam said he's in one of his angry-drunk moods. Apparently he's... Well, not himself. And you know how much alcohol it takes to get him that way. He's going to puke his guts out."

Izzy grimaced. _That's quite the description, there. _Amy sighed and buried her face into his shoulder.

"Matt, please don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think seeing you is going to soothe him at the moment. It's probably better for an uninvolved party to take care of this." Her voice was muffled by the fabric of his coat, but the strain in her tone was still evident. Izzy patted her back awkwardly. Soothing women was something of an uncharted area.

Matt tilted his head and made a hedging sound. "You're right," he allowed, closing his eyes. "But... But I worry about you. I mean, I know it's Tai, but I don't like shutting you up with an angry drunk." Izzy frowned and looked from Matt to Amy. He was inclined to trust Matt's judgment, if only because he seemed to be the voice of reason in Amy's group. His hold on Amy tightened.

"Matt." Izzy stared openly up at Amy. There was something biting in her tone, something like a warning. "I can handle Tai. He would never lash out at me."

"I know he wouldn't knowingly," Matt returned. He was hedging, as if he were torn between needing to say more, and not wanting to upset her. "But he's practically gone. Are you sure you can count on him behaving normally?"

"I can stay with you, if it's that much of an issue," Izzy offered, trying not to let his reluctance show. He had seen Tai slip into a dangerous state before, and wasn't eager to see it again. But he was even less eager to leave Amy defenseless in such a situation.

Amy tossed her head and blew a breath out. "You guys act like he's a barrel of nitroglycerin. What's the problem? Yeah, so he might snarl a little. Sure, he's going to throw up. I'll manage. Just let me find a bucket and some plastic bags..." She stared over her shoulder at the dorm building, where kids were finally being allowed readmission.

Matt caught his eye and shook his head. _She can be oblivious, _he seemed to suggest. "Alright. But call me if you need me. If you suspect you'll need me. Keep your phone handy. Promise me."

"Alright, alright," Amy said, a little crossly. Matt nodded, patted her shoulder, and began to walk in the other direction, going about his errand of bringing Tai back.

"You can call me, as well." Izzy averted his eyes as he made the offer. He didn't want her to sense his reluctance, or his embarrassment.

It seemed like a kind suggestion to Izzy, but she stiffened and pulled back. "Honestly," she muttered, flicking a bit of hair over her shoulder, "you, too? Tai isn't a wild animal. He loves me. I don't care how drunk he is, how sick he is. It wouldn't even matter if he completely lost his mind. He would never, _never _hurt me." For a moment, Izzy feared that she was truly angry, but then she tipped her head and sighed. "You and Matt don't have sisters. And you're an only child, right? I guess that's why you don't understand."

Izzy almost pointed out that she and Tai weren't siblings, but he realized that he had already swallowed one of his feet, and that he had best retain the other. Sometimes it was best to just humor your conversation partner. "Perhaps," he allowed. "It's still possible that you might need some help over the course of the night. Please, don't hesitate to contact me."

"Izzy…" Amy stared down at him for a long moment, and Izzy tried to keep his expression neutral. There was something about the warmth in her tone that made him want to smile like an imbecile, but he was determined not to do so. "Thank you. That… Your concern… Itmeansalottomethankyou." She colored and looked away, no doubt embarrassed by the way her words had tumbled together. He knew he should say something, perhaps tell her that it was no problem, but all he managed was a slight nod. Frustration worked its way through him. Sometimes, he spoke far more than he usually did around Amy, and she sometimes rendered him mysteriously mute.

She pulled him in for a long moment, hugging him like a dear friend that she hadn't seen for years. The contact emphasized the beating of her heart, and it seemed to pound into him, until he confused its rhythm for that of his own. And, suddenly, it felt like there was something he desperately wanted to say to her, but she said good night and slipped away, hurrying back towards the dorm.

Izzy stared after her and released his breath in a slow, strained sigh.

Even Later that Night (Morning?)

Amy had finished taping a triple layer of plastic bags to the mouth of a bucket, and she was nodding off beside it when Matt came into his room, half-hauling Tai with him. She pulled back and wrinkled her nose. Tai looked _awful, _and he smelled even worse. His hair was tousled and tangled, and there was an odd gray cast to his skin beneath his tan. His eyes were dull and unfocused, and his mouth was twisted into a constant grimace. As for the smell, well, he smelled like stale beer, sweat, and dude funk.

"Morning, sunshine!" Amy chirped, forcing a cheerful smile. Tai grunted and tilted his head about, clearly searching for the person who had spoken. It didn't bode well that he was having so much trouble with the task. She hopped off of his bed to make room for him, and Matt lowered him into the empty space.

"Let go," Tai growled, but his words were so heavily slurred that Amy was just guessing at the content. Frowning, Matt obeyed, dropping him the rest of the way. He landed with a heavy _fwump _on the mattress, where he immediately began to express his disapproval with a scorching string of profanity.

"Oh, my," Amy muttered, her eyes popping at a particularly impressive bit of bilingual invective. "I wouldn't have guessed that he knew that word. Our high school Spanish teacher would be so… proud?"

"He knows plenty of those," Matt sighed, stretching his neck out. "But none of the actual course vocabulary. Now. Last chance to bail on this, Amy. He put up one hell of a fight before I could get him back. Luckily for me, he's too far gone to throw a straight punch."

Amy stared at him for a long moment. The muscles in his face kept pinching up. "You're injured," she said, her voice going high and tight. "Let me see it."

Matt sighed and crossed his arms. "It's just a bruise." He waved a hand dismissively, but paused mid-gesture as she narrowed her eyes at him. Hopefully, he would recognize that she wasn't going to let this go. They stared each other down, but she won, as she always did when injuries were involved. At last, he lifted his shirt and gestured towards his left clavicle, where an impressive purple mark was already forming.

Amy hissed and scooted towards him, skidding over the tile floor in her haste. Her fingers landed on the injury, gently probing it, but nothing seemed broken. It was just a surface wound, though a nasty one. "I'm sorry," she said, tugging his shirt to let him know that she was finished looking. "I don't know what to do for it."

He dropped the fabric, straightened it over his torso, and glanced awkwardly around the room. "It's just a bruise. It will fade on its own. It's nothing for you to apologize about." His blue eyes drifted over to Tai's reclining figure. "The good news is, I think our little fight ate up the last of his energy. He'll probably fall right to sleep. We should try to get some water in him first, though, if we can."

"I'll see to it." Amy squeezed his uninjured shoulder, then made her way to the mini fridge, where she pulled out a bottle of water. Then she returned to the bed and poked Tai until he acknowledged her with a faint growl. "Budge over," she ordered, careful to keep her voice chipper and light. "How can I fit if you take up the whole bed?"

Tai groaned and rolled onto his side, providing just enough room for her to get onto the bed. She picked up his hands and placed the bottle in between them, but Tai stared at it blankly. "Drink it, Tai. You're drunk as a skunk." _And you smell like one, too, _she added privately. "You need something non poisonous in your system."

His eyes focused on her face, and Amy shook her head sadly. She knew Tai like no one else, except perhaps for Kari, and, despite the fact that he was drunk enough to be more or less gone, she could read him like a tragic book. The golden flecks in his iris were almost invisible at the moment. It hurt to see him like this, hurting and raging with no target, turning his temper inward on himself. Strange that Matt still saw him as dangerous. Any outward fury was just a show at this point, a way of saving face. It was himself he was furious with, and Amy knew that he had the worst time dealing with that kind of anger.

A powerful, large hand closed on her upper arm. His mouth worked silently for a few seconds before any sound came out. "Amy," he managed at last. His body began to tremble slightly, and Amy glanced up at Matt. Tai wouldn't want him to see him like this. Well, in all honesty, he wouldn't want _her_ to see this either, but there was no choice; someone had to make sure that he got through the night alright, as drunk as he was.

She made a "go away" gesture with her free hand, but Matt hesitated. Pain, worry, frustration... It was all there in his tense muscles, in his averted, but twitching eyes. Then he lifted his face and met her glance.

"He… He acted like we were okay when I told him. I figured he was hurting, but… But this? It's more than I expected. I've never seen him so drunk before." He hesitated and lifted a hand to the back of his head. "Do you think we're going to be alright?"

She nodded and smiled. Tai would certainly forgive Matt. As far as she could tell, he didn't blame his friend, not even now, although there was certainly some bitterness there. But those feelings would fade before long. Matt's hands clenched and unclenched a few times before he nodded and retreated, locking the door behind him.

There was pause as Tai struggled with the cap on the water bottle. Amy twisted it open for him, then settled herself against the cinderblock wall that the head of the bed was up against. Frowning, she got up and stole Matt's pillows, then used them to cushion her back. She yanked on Tai, trying to get him sitting up and leaning against her. He snarled, but it was all bark and no bite; he allowed her to manipulate his body until he was resting beside her. His head fell heavily on her shoulder.

"So," Amy began, stroking his head soothingly, running her fingers through his seemingly endless supply of gravity defiant hair, "do you want to talk about why you're so wasted on a cold Thursday morn?"

"Go away," Tai replied, but he put more of his body weight onto her as he spoke, making it virtually impossible to get up anyway. His voice seemed heavy and distant, as if a curtain of water were separating them, garbling the sound. A tan, sinewy arm wrapped around her stomach as he slid onto his side. Some of the cold water spilled out of the bottle and dripped onto her chest, and she hissed and tilted the mouth away from her body, pressing it back against Tai's lips. He narrowed his eyes and made a disgusting slurping noise as he drank.

"Do you remember how much you've had?" Amy asked curiously. Tai held his liquor very, very well. Usually, the only signs of his intoxication were the slurring of his voice, and, eventually, an increase in all of his personality traits, making him even more friendly, playful, and aggressive than usual. But now, he hardly seemed to know where he was, and she was fairly sure that this had something to do with his clinging to her.

There was a pause as he considered this. "Ahhhmm..." He tilted his head back, and his whole body seemed to follow, so that Amy had to grab onto his shoulders to keep him on the bed. "Oh, God, Amy," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I drank so much. I can'even see straight. I'mma owe Adam a lotta money."

Amy closed her eyes and willed herself not to react, which would only annoy her cousin. Adam was a supremely generous guy, and his family had quite a bit of money. He was always happy to get his friends wasted on his dime, provided he could watch the fun. If Tai felt the need to repay him, then he must have made a supreme dent in Adam's booze supply.

"Don't worry," she said, trying to make her voice sound as soothing as possible. "I'll take care of you."

Tai grunted. "You're gonna get puked on." The utter lack of remorse in his tone had Amy laughing.

"Yes, I know," she said at last, sighing in an overblown way. "I just love you that much. Idiot."

Tai stared into her eyes for a long time, so long that Amy started to feel a little uncomfortable. "You love me," he sighed. "Maybe you c'n tell me why I fuck everything up anymore."

_Ah. Sounds like we're getting into this, after all_. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or not. He probably could use a friendly, non-judgemental ear, but would he even have a clear memory of this conversation later? But there was no turning back now; words were tumbling out of Tai's mouth in a garbled string.

"Everythin' comes out all wrong. I liked her, Amy. Sora. I really did. But I don't... I don't think she even noticed that I was into her. All she saw was Matt from the start. You tried to tell me- why didn' I listen t'ya?" The empty water bottle fell from his hands and clattered to the floor as he tilted his body against hers, burying his face in her neck. "Ya smell like sugar," he sighed.

Amy ignored his comment on her perfume. She had been using it for years; he should be used to it, but, then, he was beyond sloshed. "You're the type who doesn't give up until it's over. I like that about you."

"Ya mean I'm stubborn." He tried to sigh or exhale sharply, she wasn't sure which, but she did know that it resulted in dribble on her neck. "Ahh hell, I'm startin' t'feel like shit." Amy reached over the edge of the bed, picked up the bucket, and wordlessly passed it over to him. His fingers crinkled against the plastic bags. "Ya thought ahead. See, you're smart, why can't I be smart, like you?"

"People give stubbornness a hard time," Amy said, "but, really, what could anyone, anywhere, get done without it? You see opportunities, and you go for them, Tai. And you are smart." She worried her lower lip viscously with her upper teeth. It was very unlike Tai to go all defeatist like this.

"Amy…" Tai stared at her for a long moment, and his eyes began to water. A tear streaked down his face, and he wiped at it aggressively. "'M not cryin'," he muttered, but more tears were falling with each passing second.

"I know you're not," Amy said soothingly. She cuddled up against him and began to hum a Gaelic lullaby, making no comment as his silent tears turned into normal crying. Her fingers ran gently, tenderly through his hair, and he leaned into her touch. It was extremely rare for Tai to need her like this. Normally, day after day, year after year, it was Amy borrowing Tai's strength. She had stood in his shadow for as long as she could remember, wearing it like a coat of armor and a badge of honor. And so, she continued to innocently caress him, to switch between singing and talking about times when he had done wonderful things for her, for Kari, and for Matt. She rubbed the back of his neck when he vomited, making no signs of disgust or judgment.

When he finally stopped throwing up long enough to start nodding off, Amy sat the bucket beside him on the ground and helped him lay down. She craftily aimed his face so that it was facing away from her and towards the bucket. Although he was still fully clothed- it just now occurred to her that she ought to have helped him change earlier- he seemed to pass out the moment she got him down on his side. Amy wrapped an arm around him and tried not to fall asleep, but she drifted off almost as quickly as he did.

The rest of the night was uneventful, unless you counted the rest of Tai's vomiting.

**Author's Note:** Ewww. I would like to warn those who have not been drunk before that overindulging in alcohol is an ugly, ugly thing. Drink responsibly, and always in the company of someone who really cares about you and can haul your drunk ass somewhere safe (and who, preferably, makes sure you don't drink to the point of puking). And always return the favor for that person!

Right-o then, moving right along past the preaching. Story news! We shall very soon be tipping into Halloween territory. One more chapter, then Halloween (which I believe will span at least two chapters)! And this is going to be truly epic. I have parts of it written, and I think you guys will really love it, so please stay tuned :D We need some happy up in here after watching Tai crash and burn. Ah well, at least Amy was there to help. I hope you guys buy that Tai would cry. I don't think he would have if Amy hadn't said nice things to him, but I think it's a good thing that he did. That kind of emotional release is much more useful in the long run than alcohol.


	18. Little Help from My Friends

Amy was staring out of the dorm window, admiring the small patch of trees in the courtyard between their building and a few surrounding ones. The dropping sun seemed to set the red, yellow, and orange leaves ablaze on one side, while sinking the other into shadows. She stood and opened the window, breathing in the scent of fall, heedless of the chilled air rolling into the room. Autumn was her favorite season, for its beauty, its fanfare of color and life before the annual death of winter. And, of course, for pumpkin. Delicious, delicious pumpkin.

Without realizing it, she had fallen into a state of dreamy, dazed melancholy, and her thoughts were drifting about like the falling leaves beyond the window. But they always seemed to land in the same spot, on the same subject, but she scattered them before she had to admit it to herself.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Amy jumped and let slip a small, startled gasp. She twisted her body away from the window, eyes wide and straining, then relaxed immediately when she saw Sora and Mimi standing a few feet behind her. "Ah, sorry," she said, clapping a hand over her heaving heart. "You startled me. I guess I didn't hear you guys come in." She closed the window and leaned against the cinder block wall, grateful for the solid support at her back. "What's up?"

Mimi flounced towards her and slid an arm around her waist, forcing her away from the wall. "You scare too easily," she chided, directing her to her bed. She pushed down on her hips, a clear demand for her to have a seat. Amy obeyed automatically, and was not surprised when Mimi sat beside her and started cuddling.

"Do you mind if I ask what you were thinking about?" Sora asked, taking a seat on her own bed. Amy sighed and tilted her head against Mimi's, breathing in her perfume, a combination of floral and wood scents.

"I'm not entirely sure," Amy said. "I was mostly zoning out." This came as close to lying as she was capable of, because some small, secretive part of her mind knew full well what she kept thinking about nonstop lately. Sora and Mimi shared looks and sighed, and Amy felt her body start to stiffen. This felt uncomfortably like the start of an interrogation. She was beginning to grow more and more familiar with them.

Mimi ran her fingers over her sides, not unlike a judge in a dog show, and Amy tried not to laugh at the faintly ticklish sensation. "Hmm. Yes, you have lost a little weight," she muttered, and Amy whirled towards her. What was this about, now? "Sora told me that you've been playing tennis with her. Trying to lose weight?"

Amy felt heat rise to her face. "I'm trying to make friends with Sora." She avoided saying anything about the weight question. It was either lie or confirm, and she didn't want to do either.

Sora's eyes seemed to shine for a moment. "I'm so glad," she said softly, smiling in her gentle way. "I was beginning to think you'd never warm up to me."

Amy blinked at her, closing and opening her eyes slowly. "I always liked you a lot. But, since you're dating Matt now, I can't put off getting close to you anymore. It's like... you're part of my family now." She shrugged, knowing her words were strange, but having no way to soften them, to make them more normal and acceptable. All she could do was hope that none of it was offensive. Sora looked a little confused, but touched, so it seemed like she was alright.

Mimi's expression was much less kind. Her eyes were narrowed, her lips were pulled into a tiny frown, and she leaned in and furrowed her brow, a look of mixed suspicion and challenge. "You are so weird! And, anyway, you? Making friends? I mean, that's great, but... There's more to it than that. I know you, Amy!"

_Caught like a rabbit in a snare. _Mimi's probing fingers had tightened into a surprisingly strong grip, and Amy couldn't move without knocking her away, which she was too gentle to do. She gave Sora a helpless look, but her roommate was smiling politely. _Whatever this is, she's in on it, too, _Amy thought, grimacing.

All that was left to her was resignation. She averted her eyes and dipped into her store of noncommittal, potentially misdirecting replies. "As you will, Mimi." Then her grimace became more severe. Why did she have to default to _that_ expression? Everyone would know where it came from!

"See, see, that's it, exactly!" Mimi cried, and Amy inched away, her ears slightly ringing with the volume of her friend's voice. "You talk _like_ him. You always talk _about_ him. I know you're always _thinking_ about him these days! Do you know you've been smiling like a lovesick puppy when you're daydreaming?"

"Lovesick puppy?" Amy echoed. She had no idea what that could imply, although the images that came to mind were fairly ridiculous.

Mimi ignored the interruption. "And now you're trying to lose weight, and Sora tells me you've been asking her opinion on what you wear." Amy looked over at her roommate in a suffering way, and Sora's smile became slightly apologetic. But only slightly.

"Not to be rude," Amy sighed, burying her face in Mimi's shoulder, "but where is this going? I have studying to do sometime this evening."

"No," Mimi said sharply, "you don't. You and Izzy are coming with me and Joe to the mall. A double date. If I have to watch you and that annoying little redhead dance around the fact that you like each other for one more second, I will scream. I will honestly scream. You both stink at dancing!" At this point, Mimi was incensed and breathing a little heavily. Amy shot a look at Sora, a final plea for mercy, but her roommate held her hands up, as if to say, _sorry, but what can I do?_

Amy felt her posture deflate. "I... I don't want to," she said, and Mimi's pretty little hands curled into fists against her waist.

"Fine. I'll let you off the hook, if you can do this one thing." Her voice was not its normal high-pitched, tinkling, flutey sound. It was harsh, shrill, and edgy, a sound that Amy had often heard, but had rarely been the recipient of. This was Mimi at the end of her (somewhat limited) temper.

"What's that?" Amy asked, putting an arm around Mimi. She wanted to end the conflict that she had somehow wandered into, even though she was fairly certain she hadn't started it, but she wasn't sure how.

Mimi looked her straight in the eye, her expression uncommonly serious. "I know you, Amy. You'll lead people in circles, you'll nudge people into coming to the wrong conclusion without ever saying anything that isn't true. But, you won't lie. So, I'll let you off, I'll never bother you about Izzy again, if you can say no, just straight-up no, to this question: Do you like Izzy?"

Her muscles instantly went rigid, and she felt like a prisoner in her own body, unable to move, unable to speak. There it was- the thought she had been ignoring, pushing away, trying not to heed. That wonderful, dangerous thought… For a moment, her heart sputtered pathetically, as if it had forgotten what it was supposed to be doing.

"Mimi," Sora said gently, interjecting at last. "Should you push that hard?" Amy turned her eyes on her roommate, nodding without realizing it, looking at her as if she were a lighthouse, glittering with the promise of land and safety in a storm.

"I have to!" Mimi snapped. "Amy's never liked someone before, and they're both so ridiculous, they're never going to get anywhere on their own! Come on Sora, you know they'd be so cute together!"

Sora sighed and trailed her fingertips along her chin. "Honestly? I think of you two as a couple, anyway. You're always eating lunch and dinner together, and whenever you're not in class or studying, you're with him. And, lately, there's definitely been some tension there, don't you think, Mimi?"

"Oh, _absolutely-"_

"Tension?" Amy squeaked, somehow working her stiff jaws. "N-n-no. There's no tension. No tension here. We're friends." Her hands went to her hair, playing with it incessantly, fingers twitching as they moved, tangling the delicate strands. "And, anyway, doesn't anyone think he might be kind of, you know, stoic? Detached?" She leaned towards Mimi and whispered something that she had been keeping at the fringes of her mind, as she was unwilling to acknowledge it. Her voice sounded hollow and lost, but she couldn't seem to correct her tone. "What if he's asexual?"

Mimi looked at her, her expression distinctly skeptical. Then she turned to Sora, and when their eyes met, they ogled at each other, then simultaneously began to laugh. "What's so funny!" Amy demanded. Her chest flooded with hurt at their laughter.

Mimi caught her eye and opened her mouth, clearly intending to comment, but she broke out into new peals of laughter and batted a hand at Sora. Sora dropped her head into her hand and gasped, trying to calm down enough to answer. "Amy," she managed at last. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

"I don't?" If she weren't so engaged in the conversation, then maybe she would have realized the implications of showing such interest in Izzy's sexuality. But, as it was, she was leaning towards her friends, desperate for more on the topic, needing to hear some final proof that he was, A, capable of sexual interest, and, B, into girls.

Mimi snuggled up to her, patting her head as if she were a clueless puppy, or a child that had just said something adorable and innocent. "Ohhhh, Amy," she sighed, wiping moisture from her eyes. "Dear, sweet, oblivious Amy. He's not asexual. And, if you come shopping with us, I can prove it."

"Who what now?" Amy edged away from her friend, trying and failing to imagine a way that shopping could indicate one's interest in the opposite sex. She was still puzzling over it, with her head tipped at an awkward angle, when Mimi squeezed her waist.

"You still haven't answered, you know. Do you like him?"

_Zeus' treacherous loins. She remembered. _Amy crossed her arms and looked away. "I like you. I like Tai. I like Matt, TK, Kari, Joe, and Sora. And, yes, I like Izzy."

Mimi and Sora sighed in unison. "That's cheating! You knew what I was trying to say!" Mimi wagged a finger in her face scoldingly. "I meant, do you like him romantically!" For a moment, she flailed her hands in a frustrated way, but she slowly calmed. She looked Amy in the eye and smirked, and Amy could feel herself edging away and worrying her lower lip. "But... If you're concerned about whether or not he's ..._wired_... like the average boy, then... I guess that speaks for itself!"

"It certainly seems to," Sora agreed.

"I don't- I'm _not-_" Amy sputtered and flailed her hands, but she couldn't fully form the denial caught at the tip of her tongue. Her stomach seemed to bubble and churn, and the emotions she had been trying to beat down or ignore frothed over and up, somehow translating into tears. She sniffed once, twice, then started to cry full out, burying her face in her hands. It was childish and random, she knew, but she couldn't seem to help it.

Mimi's hold on her waist instantly became a hug. Her friend made a shushing sound and started running her hands soothingly through her hair. "I really do think you pushed too hard," Sora said softly, and Amy could feel her having a seat on her other side. "Amy. We're sorry. But, I don't quite understand why you're crying. If you tell us, maybe we can help." Amy felt a gentle touch on her back, and she leaned into it automatically.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Amy sobbed. "I didn't mean to cry. I just, I just-" She couldn't believe how quickly she was soaking her own face. It was like some kind of salty flash flood. Mimi was pulling on her arm, directing her to lay her head on her shoulder, and Amy obeyed. She felt marginally less embarrassed about inexplicably breaking down in front of Sora if Mimi hid her face. As for Mimi, well, Amy had helped her through far too many explosive mood swings in high school to feel any embarrassment crying in front of her.

"Um, Amy," Mimi began, stroking her head, "are you… Are you afraid to get into another relationship, after… After your last one?"

Amy's arms looped around Mimi, so that her hands landed on her shoulder blades. "Y-yes," she managed. That was certainly one of the negative emotions involved here. She had never loved Jerry. Even before that day when everything went wrong, at best, she only found him mildly pleasant company. But everyone kept telling her how lucky she was, how he was so good for her, from people she loved and trusted to classmates that she thought of as acquaintances. And so, like a fool, she had gone along with it.

And, suddenly, everyone was bothering her to get with another boy. "But, I like Izzy," she breathed, rubbing her face against Mimi's neck. "I really, really do." And, with that admission, all of the thoughts that she had been beating back swirled around like a tornado in her brain, then fell neatly into place, forming a cohesive picture.

She was in absolute awe of his intelligence, and deeply impressed that he only rarely seemed to behave condescendingly towards people of lesser mental prowess. His curiosity and thirst for knowledge were so exciting and refreshing for her, since so many people seemed adverse to learning and pushing themselves. And he was open minded, always willing to reform his understanding of the world, to redefine things, to challenge his own world view. His dry, sardonic sense of humor and his wit endlessly delighted her, as did his overly-formal way of speaking. And, although she knew it was a little strange, she really loved how gruff and uncomfortable he could become. Not to mention that he seemed to intrinsically understand and respect her fears of being physically dominated, and he always bore himself in a yielding, gentlemanly way.

Her crying intensified as she compared that list of traits to her own. There was her, clumsy, neurotic, clueless, over-emotional, irrational, enormous- much taller and heavier than him. Normally, she didn't think about that sort of thing. She was what she was, and she worked with what she had. But, for the first time, she wanted to impress someone, and she suddenly realized how very lacking she was. "Even if he _is_ interested in girls, he'll never feel that way about me," Amy concluded aloud.

Mimi made a startled sound and pried her backwards, so that they were looking at each other. Amy edged back into Sora when she got a look at Mimi's tight, angry expression. "_No," _Mimi cried, and a tiny, delicate hand flew up and swatted her on the head, like a child scolding a misbehaving cat or dog. "I _know _what you're thinking, Amy. You're thinking about all the bad stuff your dad used to say, right? Well, no offense, but your dad's an ass, and you're a total sweetheart, and there is _nothing _wrong with you. You ever start to think like that, just come right to me, and I'll tell you how awesome you are." Mimi shook her roughly by the shoulders. "You have to promise!"

"She's right, you know," Sora said softly from somewhere behind her. "And you and Izzy seem to be the only ones who don't realize that you're interested in each other."

"Well, I don't think Tai knows," Mimi said conversationally. "He's not very observant. But, it may be better for Izzy that Tai doesn't sense this coming." Then she turned back to Amy and gave her one last shake. "Promise!"

"Okay! Okay!" Amy choked. "But, I still don't think Izzy wants…" She was unable to complete the sentence.

Mimi sighed and patted her shoulders. "Then let's get your face cleaned up, and I'll prove it to you, sweetheart." Amy stared at her blankly, entirely unsure of how this was to be accomplished, but Mimi winked saucily, stood, and helped her to her feet. "I promise, there will be no room for doubt by the end of the day."

Later

Izzy tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, trying to figure out how he had ended up driving Amy, Joe, and Mimi to the mall. Mimi had burst into his room, dragging Amy by the hand, and declared that it shall be so, and somehow he had gotten swept along, despite the fact that he wasn't particularly interested in this expedition.

That disinterest was rapidly turning into despair as he listened to Mimi talking from the back seat. Apparently, the point of this trip was to purchase a dress for Amy, and it seemed that his approval was somehow required in this process. And, to make matters worse, Mimi kept throwing the word 'date' around, in reference to both herself and Joe and to him and Amy. His hands tightened around the wheel. He kept trying to talk to Amy, who was seated opposite him in the front seat, in order to gauge her reaction to that loaded word, but Mimi kept chattering nonstop, and Amy was staring silently out of her window.

"So, Amy, I was thinking this new dress could double as your Halloween costume," Mimi chirped, leaning towards the front seat. Izzy glanced into the rear view mirror at that flawless face and furrowed his brow with annoyance. He slid his eyes to Joe, who somehow looked up at just the right moment. He shrugged, almost imperceptibly. He was holding Mimi's hand.

"I still don't really understand," Amy said quietly. "I have dresses. Lots of them."

"But you don't have a LBD, which is, like, sinful!" Mimi cried. Her tone suggested that Amy was expecting to successfully play baseball without a glove.

"LBD?" Joe echoed, and Izzy realized for the first time how difficult it was to drive and have a conversation with multiple people. While he could always cast a quick glance at the person in the passenger seat, it was much harder to take a look at the people in the back, and he kept forcing his eyes to stay on the road. It was frustrating, since he wanted as much information as possible, and a lot of social cues could only be found in the face and body language of others.

"Little black dress!" Mimi explained, as if this were common knowledge.

"Of course," Izzy said dryly. "What were you thinking, Joe?" He saw Amy's shoulders rise and fall with silent laughter beside him, but Mimi didn't react, so he wasn't sure if she picked up on his humor. Her attention seemed to be focused on Joe, and she began to speak earnestly, as if the topic were deeply important and interesting.

"The LBD is a fashion staple. Every girl needs one- of course, it's better to have more. It needs to be something you can dress up or down, and pull out for any occasion. And, of course, it needs to take advantage of the slimming effect of black, and show off your body."

Izzy could feel his brow shoot up. Perhaps this really _was _an interesting topic. His eyes slid to Amy, who was shifting uncomfortably.

"I... I don't really need to show off, do I?" she asked awkwardly. Mimi released her breath in a loud, annoyed sigh.

"Yes!" she practically shouted. "God, Amy, you're like freaking Marilyn Monroe from the neck down. I'm not letting you hide it behind layers of fabric anymore! I'm going to _pour _you into a dress, and you are going to be _gorgeous_."

Amy buried her face in her palms, which was fortunate for Izzy, because Mimi's description was making him color slightly. Of course, he finally understood why he was being dragged along; Mimi wanted to torture him with the sight of Amy dressed to kill, in the hopes that it would encourage him to ask her out. That much was obvious, and he couldn't help but wonder if Amy realized it, as well. It was possible that she didn't, as she seemed focused on her mortification.

"I like my clothes," Amy managed weakly, although it was hard to make the words out through her hands. "And I'm too fat to look good in anything that someone had to..._pour _me into." Was it his imagination, or was she glancing towards him and inching away? Did she want his opinion? His entire mouth seemed to go instantly dry- his understanding was that there really was no good answer to that.

"Ohhh myyy gaaaaaawwwddd," Mimi drawled. "Amy, I've told you this a thousand times: you're not fat! You're _curvy_, and it's _awesome_. Don't go all pouty on me! I'll show you what's what, just you wait till we get to the department stores!"

"Stores?" Amy echoed weakly. Izzy's stomach sank, possibly in unison with hers. Would he and Joe be permitted to go do something else while this process went on?

"Yes! Stores!" Mimi snapped. "You're going to try on all of the things, and I'm going to pick the sexiest one." Izzy suddenly had a vision of Mimi prying a dress off of Amy, helping her into another, touching her here and there to test the fit... He swallowed roughly and quickly tried to think of something else.

"Mimi..." Amy said quietly. She turned around in her seat and spoke softly, as if that would prevent himself and Joe from hearing her. "Your tastes are..._expensive. _I don't know if I can afford..."

"No excuses!" Mimi cried. "I'm buying." Izzy shared a surprised look with Joe in the rear view mirror. Amy made a sputtering noise, and Izzy hastened to speak, giving her time to organize her thoughts.

"That's... That's exceedingly generous of you, Mimi," he pointed out. She produced an off hand clicking sound with her tongue.

"It's no problem. Papa sends me more money than I could ever spend. And that's saying something."

_I'll bet it is. _He was beginning to suspect that Mimi was well off, and he suddenly realized that he should have come to this conclusion much sooner. She was always dressed so fashionably, and she never seemed to re-wear anything. And there was something about her that suggested that she was daddy's little princess.

"Where did you say your parents live?" Izzy asked, and he realized that his voice had gone slightly high.

"Los Altos, California." There was something a little mournful in her voice, and Izzy could completely understand it. He seemed to remember reading somewhere that Los Altos was one of the most expensive places to live in the states, and he could only imagine the scenery, warm weather, and views that she had left behind in favor of the DMV tri-state area.

A strangled sound went through the car, and Izzy knew by experience more than by ear that it was Joe. "Los Altos?!" he echoed. "Mimi, no offense, but why did you come to school here if you... I mean, couldn't you have gone anywhere?"

"Money only gets you so far, Joe," Mimi said. "I'm not a great student. And, anyway, I love my parents a lot, but they kind of... They smother me, they think I can't do anything on my own, so I wanted to get away for a little while, and prove that I can take care of myself. My Papa's job has made us move around a lot, and, as far as the friends I made, I was happiest here. I missed everyone. So... I came here." There was a slight pause, and then Mimi's light, high voice continued, "Anyway, so... I can buy a dress. I'm not taking no for an answer, Amy."

"Mimi... That's really sweet, and I appreciate it, but I'm not really comfortable with-"

"Deal with it," Mimi growled.

Joe cleared his throat and awkwardly tried to change the subject, and Izzy did his best to help the transition along.

Later

Izzy watched as Joe checked his cell for what seemed like the hundredth time today. Mimi had promised to text them when she found the perfect dress, but that was over three hours ago now. Izzy and Joe had loitered around in the book store for most of that period, Izzy intent on computer books and Joe enthralled with the medical section, and they were now walking around the mall and chatting. It didn't seem right to stay there any longer without buying anything.

"I'm starving," Joe sighed, pocketing his cell. "Can we get a snack or something?"

"What, and ruin our appetites?" Izzy asked innocently. "I was under the impression that Mimi wanted us all to eat dinner together."

"Well, she'll be eating with a corpse if I don't get something soon," Joe retorted peevishly. "Honestly, why have us come along if they were going to go off by themselves the whole time?"

Izzy stared up at his friend, hardly able to comprehend his ignorance. "Joe. I don't claim to be an expert on women, but I've been made to understand that this sort of thing isn't that far-fetched."

"Get to your point." Izzy rolled his eyes and grinned. Joe could be very snappish when he was hungry. He had always been that way.

"Inure. Especially if you intend to stay with Mimi for a significant amount of time." Joe grumbled indistinctly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, well, I guess everything has a price. Anyway... You do realize that Mimi keeps calling this a date, right? In front of Amy. Who hasn't said anything about it."

_Oh, fantastic. We're going there. _"Yes, Joe. I heard her the first six times." Izzy crossed his arms and glanced away, hoping to communicate his reluctance to get into this.

Somewhere above him, Joe sighed, long and low. "Izzy. I really wish you'd talk to me about this. I know you hate it, I know you're intensely private, I know you like to pretend that feelings don't exist and we live in some kind of controlled, experimental environment. But, we don't. Feelings _do _exist, and you're riddled with them, just like the next poor fool. A friendly ear can go a long way, you know."

"_Joe_," Izzy muttered, speaking his name like a warning. He wasn't one for seeking advice. There was a time, once, when many of his peers brought their problems to him, even though most of them typically didn't speak to him that often. They were after his willingness to speak his true, blunt opinion, and his ability to strip an issue of the surrounding emotions and speak in purely logical terms. But, more recently, he had closed himself off beyond providing that service, despite the pleasure he once took in being helpful to others. But he had never brought any of his problems to others, preferring to either work them out on his own, or to bury them deep within himself. He didn't see a reason to start sharing now. Truth be told, he was already embarrassed by how much Joe knew about his situation with Amy, and particularly about what he had let slip the night that he took her roller skating.

"_Fine_," Joe said, and his voice was like a growl. "You know what, I don't even care what you think anymore. We're having this discussion. I'm not giving you a choice. We're getting some ice cream- yes, you too, you need to put some weight on, although probably eating ice cream isn't the healthiest way- and you're talking to me, even if I have to…" He paused for a moment and adjusted his glasses, clearly struggling for an appropriate threat. "You're going to talk to me," he finished lamely.

Izzy sneered and pressed his palm to his forehead. "Why should I?" he snapped. He could feel his body tensing up and pulling inward, and the extremely tight cast of his muscles soon began to cause him pain. He tried to loosen up, but it seemed impossible.

"Because I care about you, which, frankly, is pretty amazing, given the way you've been behaving this semester!" Joe's voice went high and harsh, and he breathed heavily a few times before continuing. "Seriously, I think I'm getting an ulcer over this."

Izzy's first instinct was to lash out, but the strain in Joe's face convinced him to take a step back from that edge and to analyze the situation, the step he would have started with if those insufferable emotions weren't involved. The truth was, he had been fairly taciturn and temperamental this semester, and Joe had been very patient with him. Guilt prickled him when he thought of all the times he had snapped at Joe for trying to help him. Although he kept telling himself that he would prefer to be alone, he knew that Joe was an important part of his life, and that he had been taking him for granted.

"You're right," he sighed, running his fingers through his short hair. "You're right. I apologize, Joe. I'll… I'll make an effort to improve." He cleared his throat awkwardly and slipped his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.

Joe blinked, adjusted his glasses, and stared down at him. "…Huh! I didn't expect you to… Alright. So, you'll talk to me?"

"I'll talk to you," he agreed through gritted teeth. _But I won't enjoy it._

"Well, okay then," Joe said, and his voice was light with relief. A few minutes later, they were seated at a bench, each of them eating ice cream and idly watching people pass by. For a while, Joe ate with single-minded intensity, clearly too hungry to be bothered with chatter, but eventually he slowed down and shifted his body towards Izzy's.

He stared into his cup of ice cream as he opened up the floor. "So, uh, how is it going with Amy? You haven't asked her out or anything like that, have you?"

"Of course not," Izzy said, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. He must have succeeded, because no traces of annoyance flashed across his friend's face.

"Well, can you tell me how you feel about her?"

Izzy produced a disgruntled sound and stared into the pink, strawberry flavored goo in his cup. He could feel his insides squirming, and the sensation was alien and disgusting. "I… Joe, you have to understand. This is extremely difficult for me to speak about. Please, this has to stay between us. Just us."

"I wouldn't do that to you, Izzy," Joe said quietly. Something about his tone seemed to hint at traces of hurt. "You should know me better than that by now."

"My intention wasn't to imply that you're untrustworthy," he said quickly. "I apologize. I'm just very uncomfortable right now. Please, understand that." Joe nodded slightly, so Izzy leaned back and rested his shoulders against the wooden slats of the bench. "I… With Amy…" He sighed, sat the ice cream down on the bench, and buried his face in his hands. "I can't seem to stop thinking about her. I'll be doing homework, walking to class, or working on the computer, and suddenly, I'm wondering what she's doing, or thinking about the last time I saw her. And, honestly? I _detest_ it." He risked a glance at Joe, and he found that the taller boy was ogling down at him. To be fair, Izzy knew that the lines he was delivering weren't exactly what one expected to hear, but what was he supposed to do? Lie? He was fairly sure that would render this exercise moot. "I used to have such clarity of mind!" He emphasized the point with a frustrated hand gesture. "I could sit at task for hours, and now I keep finding myself so distracted. And, I wonder… Will I always feel this way, or will I be able to reclaim what I was if I…" But, he couldn't finish the thought, and his sentence trailed off impotently.

"If you started dating her," Joe supplied calmly.

"I can't just snap my fingers and make that happen!" Izzy pointed out, and he was aware that his voice was going high and tight, to the point where he almost sounded like a stressed girl. Charitably, Joe swallowed the laugh that seemed to be inching up his throat.

"No, but you can just _ask_ and make that happen. You have at least three people who are entirely convinced that she would be happy to say yes."

"I keep trying to make it clear that I'm not… I don't want to be involved in romance again." Izzy slumped back against the bench, and the slats were uncomfortable against his spine and shoulders. He could feel Joe's eyes on him, but he couldn't bring himself to look up. He knew he was being a coward, but he wasn't sure he had the heart to hear it from Joe.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned his head instinctively, cursing in his mind when his eyes met Joe's. "You would find it uncharitable to equate Amy to Shauna, right?"

"Of course!" Izzy sputtered, and the answer seemed so painfully obvious that he inched away from Joe a little. "That would be remarkably insulting!"

"I agree. So, don't you find it just a bit hypocritical to apply the fears you took away from your relationship with Shauna to your relationship with Amy?"

For a moment, all Izzy could do was stare at Joe. The logic was so simple, so straightforward, and yet he had failed to see it on his own. He turned away from him in something of a daze, staring into the crowd of people passing by without really seeing it. But, for once, he could also clearly see the disconnect between logic and emotion; knowing that he shouldn't carry the baggage from one relationship into the next was one thing, but actually letting go of it was another.

"I see your point, but… It's so difficult…"

Joe squeezed his shoulder gently. "I'm sure it is. But, I have to ask… You _do_ want a romantic relationship with Amy, right? I mean, it's obvious that you like her, and that you're affectionate towards her, in your way. But…" He tilted his head and made a hedging sound. "Sometimes, it seemed like you're attracted to her, but other times, I'm not sure. I've never been good with that kind of cue, although Mimi swears up and down that you're always following her with your eyes. Which is it?"

Izzy swallowed hard, then cleared his throat. He lowered his voice and leaned in towards Joe. "If you _ever_ tell anyone this, I will cheerfully murder you. Are we clear?" Joe snorted and rolled his eyes, but Izzy held his glance until he nodded. Then his eyes slipped off to the side, and he could feel heat rising from his face like molten air rising from asphalt in the summer. "I… For a while, now, I've been… With frequency bordering on the routine… Dreaming about…" He grunted and looked entirely away, throwing his chin into his palm and balancing his elbow on his knee. At least the nocturnal emission had only happened the first time. That made his life marginally easier, but the constant arousal upon waking was wearing down his nerves and his sanity.

Joe colored and drew back. "You dream about sleeping with her?!" he hissed, and Izzy groaned and grit his teeth.

"It's driving me insane," he muttered, drumming the fingers of his free hand against his knee.

"Huh. Uh… Huh. You know, she doesn't look a thing like…"

"I know," Izzy said, and he felt the muscles in his jaw twitch. "I know. And… And I _was_ attracted to her. It was difficult not to be, at least before I came to truly understand her. But, even though I doubt there's anyone else in this world who would rate Amy above her purely on the basis of appearance… The effect Amy has on me now, compared to the effect _she_ had on me at the highest point of our relationship… It's ridiculously stronger."

"It's like being ensnared," Joe said quietly, staring off into nothing.

Izzy nodded slowly, hopelessly, then sighed. "It's going well with Mimi, then?" he asked. Personally, he felt that Joe's relationship was none of his business, but he wanted to show the appropriate interest in his friend's life.

Joe grinned a little goofily. "Yes, but I'll spare you the details. The important thing here is, you _really_ need to get together with Amy. I can't say that I understand how you feel about becoming romantically involved with someone again. I'm in my first relationship right now, you know that. But… She's a genuinely sweet person, and you already seem to be in too deep to back out now. I know you didn't ask for it, but my advice would be to take a leap of faith."

"Duly noted," Izzy said dryly. But he managed to clear out all signs of sarcasm for what he wanted to say next. "Thank you. For everything."

"No problem," Joe said. His tone was brusque, but Izzy knew it was probably due to pleased embarrassment. Joe wasn't that skilled at accepting compliments and appreciation, being unaccustomed to it. "If I can help you, let me know."

Before Izzy could reply, a chirping sound came from Joe's pocket, and he pulled out his cell and checked the display. "Finally!" he breathed, stretching out his legs. "Mimi says they've found a dress. She wants us to come look at it. Well, you, specifically, I would imagine."

"Is that really necessary?" Izzy asked, sighing deeply. But this was only for the sake of his pride; he was actually eager and afraid in equal measures. After hearing the way Mimi described the purpose of the so-called little black dress, he couldn't deny his strong interest in seeing Amy wearing one hand-picked by her fashion-savvy friend. However, he was also worried that the sight might provide fodder for his dreams, and his imagination was doing too much damage on its own, thanks.

"Hey, if you want to argue with Mimi, be my guest," Joe said, holding the phone out to him. "Your funeral."

"I'll pass, thank you." Izzy stood and followed Joe to wherever Mimi was directing him.

Elsewhere

Amy stared at her reflection dully. She was absolutely exhausted, and her face was flushed with the exertion of being pulled and tugged into what felt like five thousand dresses. Who knew that there were so many black dresses in a single mall? It was ridiculous! In truth, she was far too tried to know if she looked good or not in the tight, constricting dress that she was wearing, but Mimi seemed very pleased, and Amy trusted her judgment in clothing much more than she trusted her own.

There was a sharp tugging on her hair, and Amy grunted with confusion. She tilted her head and saw Mimi running a brush through her hair behind her, her expression deeply focused. "I texted Joe," she said by way of explanation. "He and Izzy are making their way over, so I'm going to pretty you up real quick."

"Meems," Amy sighed, grimacing at a particularly hard tug from the brush, "is showing the boys the dress really necessary?" She wasn't exactly looking forward to showing off to boys who, like her, doubtlessly wished that they were anywhere but at this mall by now.

"What!" Mimi exclaimed. "What are you talking about?! That's the whole point of bringing Izzy! Just watch his face when he sees you, and you'll know for sure that he's into you. I can _guarantee_ it. You. Look. _Amazing!_" Mimi's voice went high and shrill with the force of her excitement, and Amy blinked, turning her attention back to the mirror.

"I do? Are you sure?" She tilted her head and frowned thoughtfully, but the dress she was wearing seemed to blur into all of the others she had worn today.

Mimi tsked and opened her purse. "Sit here," she demanded, directing her towards the chair in the corner of the changing room. "Close your eyes while I do your makeup. You're tired, and you're not seeing straight. It can happen to people who aren't used to serious shopping." Mimi patted her cheeks, and Amy sighed and obeyed. A low groan slipped out of her lips as her weary body fell into the seat.

"Now," Mimi cooed, pressing something against her eyelid, "I want you to imagine that you're relaxing. Let's see… Okay. You're sitting in your dorm room and playing your guitar." She paused and moved on to the other eye, and Amy was impressed with her speed, but, then, if anyone knew how to apply makeup, it was Mimi. Then her friend giggled, and the mischief in her tone had Amy tensing up a little. "Oooh, I know, you're playing _Hotel California_."

Amy swallowed the aroused sigh that automatically started making its way up her throat. Music was a very emotional experience for her, and, for some inexplicable reason, _Hotel California _completely turned her on. She had never told anyone that before, and she had no idea how Mimi had discovered it. But, if anyone would pick up on something like that, it _would_ be her. "Okay. Now. You're sitting next to Izzy on your bed, and he's playing one of your video games and listening to you sing. He feels your eyes on him- you can't help it, you're totally in the mood, and that nerdy little grin just _does it_ for you- and, somehow, he knows what you're thinking…" Something wet and slightly sticky was being spread against her lips, and Amy colored as her her mouth automatically puckered out towards the lipstick. Apparently Mimi was a fan of romance novels, if her ability to spin this scene out of thin air was any indication.

"He puts the controller down… He leans closer…" Amy's heart began to pound desperately in her chest. She wasn't good at visualizing, but the purring quality to Mimi's voice seemed to bridge that gap in her abilities. Somehow, it almost felt like someone really _was_ leaning in towards her. "And… Oops, I've given you way too much lipstick." And, suddenly, soft, moist lips were on hers, tasting faintly of cherries and spearmint gum. A shudder tore down Amy's body, but she wasn't entirely sure if it was arousal or displeasure. Mimi had never kissed her without alcohol involved before, and she didn't know what to make of it. But, really, she wasn't thinking about it the way she normally did, even when she was drunk. The touch of lips on lips felt amazing, stirring, and the scene Mimi had set up for her was ingrained in her mind. Mimi pushed gently on her shoulders, and she allowed her body to be eased into the back of the chair, giving her friend complete control over whatever was happening here. Her mouth was eased open by a hot, undeniably skilled tongue, and her mind blanked as it slipped inside.

But even Mimi knew when enough was too much, and she eased back from her. Amy took a deep breath, then opened her eyes. "Amy, that was _great!_" Mimi cried, putting her hands on her shoulders and shaking gently. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Uwah?" Amy babbled. She had no idea what was going on here anymore. Mimi rolled her eyes and patted her head affectionately.

"Sweetheart. You've been uptight about physical intimacy as long as I've known you. I've been trying to show you that lightening won't fall from the sky and blast you if you enjoy a kiss for _years_. But you've always kissed like you would rather have the lightening." She winked and grinned. "But that was lovely. Has someone convinced you that a little making out might not be so bad?"

"That's why you've always- _That's_ what the whole kissing thing has been about?!" Amy cried. She chose to ignore Mimi's question. That was too loaded for her at the moment.

"Well, mostly," Mimi said, shrugging. "It's also because it's fun. And, you know, the boys just eat it up." Her giggle was part wicked purr. "But, just to be clear, I don't have any interest in sleeping with you, even though I do think you're a total cutie, and I love you." She tipped her head and stroked her chin. "I guess you can still consider it an expression of love."

"So you're saying you don't kiss other girls?" Amy asked curiously. The kissing had always been uncomfortable for her, but it never had a negative impact on her relationship with Mimi. She tolerated it, because she always knew that Mimi would never do anything to hurt her, and because it was a safe way to be a little crazy when she was drunk.

"I don't know many girls with your curves and those puppy dog eyes," Mimi said playfully, tugging gently on a lock of her hair. "And, speaking of, let's get a good look at you, now that you're…refreshed."

"You really are dangerous, Mimi," Amy said, sighing.

"I know," Mimi said, and her voice was a high, pleased squeal. "It's _awesome_. But enough of that! Stand here and take a look at your hot self!" Amy grinned, rolled her eyes, and stood in front of the mirror.

Her jaw dropped so fast that it hurt.

"Mimi, Mimi, I can't- I can't- People can't see me like this!" she whispered. She wanted to say it louder, but she could only manage a low volume. The dress clung to every curve of her body, and the entire upper halves of her breasts were prominently on display. The area where each swell began to form towards the middle of her chest was entirely visible, thanks to the dropping curve of the neckline (well, in this case, 'boobline' might have been the more appropriate name). She moved her eyes to her waist with pure willpower, and she found that the dress showcased the way her waist gave way to her ample, swaying hips, all while somehow concealing her stomach. The skirt was mature, simply hugging her thighs, just long enough for her fingertips to trace the bottom of it if she relaxed her arms against her sides. The whole thing was held up by thin straps of tiny beads, each one catching the eye with an obsidian gleam.

"People absolutely _will _see you like this!" Mimi cried, running her hands along her hips. "You look _delicious_."

Amy stepped closer to the mirror, her hand moving uncertainly towards that reflective surface. "I can't believe that's me," she said quietly. She contemplated this little miracle for a few moments, until a chirping sound broke her out of her reverie.

"Joe and Izzy are here!" Mimi cried. "I'll be right back with them! Wait here!"

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," Amy muttered, but Mimi was already gone, moving with her typical energy. Suddenly, her heart was a piston in her chest, and its beating was vaguely painful. Her hands moved to her hair, wanting to muss it up, but she stopped herself at the last second. She began to pace around the dressing room, and she was sure her loud, clumsy footfalls could be heard in the surrounding rooms.

Far too soon, it seemed, Mimi was pulling the door open and dragging her towards the entrance of the dressing room by the arm. She pushed her outside into the main portion of the department store and presented her with a flourish. "Well, boys?" she said, grinning saucily. "What do you think?!"

Amy wanted to dive back into the dressing room and pretend that this wasn't happening, but it was too late; both boys were already in front of her. Her eyes immediately fell on Izzy's face, as if spotlights were guiding her towards it. The first thing she noticed was the width of his eyes and the dilation of his pupils. His mouth went slightly slack, and she could easily follow the path of his glance from her chest, to her waist, to her hips, down her bare legs, and back up. She remembered the way he had looked her over right before asking her to roller skate. It was polite, analytical. This most certainly was not. By the time their eyes locked, his face was slightly red, and his hands had formed tight fists against his thighs, wrinkling his khakis. Although she wouldn't have noticed these cues if she hadn't been told to examine his reaction, it was a massive display of internal state by Izzy's standards. Amy stared helplessly back at him, unable to process the heady mixture of hope, excitement, and nerves strumming along her guts and dancing across her skin like spring sunlight. Instinctively, she stepped back, bumping into Mimi, taking instant comfort in the safety provided by a fellow member of the female sex.

"Well?" Mimi prodded cheekily. "Cat got your tongue, Izzy?"

Izzy cleared his throat and slowly unclenched his hands. One of them rose to the back of his neck, which he rubbed absently. His glance fell away from her, but it immediately moved back. "P-prodigious," he muttered, and Amy blinked and crossed her arms.

"Prodigious?" she echoed, pressing her brow down. "As in, great in size?" Was that some kind of fat joke? No, no, it couldn't be; he was impressed, it was painfully obvious. And that admission to herself had her coloring fiercely, had her hands going slick with sweat. She was careful not to touch her dress. It seemed so difficult to stay standing; her body seemed to want to sway, to collapse.

"Izzy!" Mimi cried, laughing even as her hands flew to her hips. "I was asking about the _dress_, not her _boobs_!"

"No!" Izzy cried. His face went from flushed to brick red, so that his head seemed like a big tomato perched on his neck. He began to wave his hands anxiously in front of him. "That's not- I wasn't- I meant the other definition! You look _stunning_."

Joe took this opportunity to intercede on his friend's behalf. "Mimi, you did a great job. Amy looks amazing."

"Sorry it took so long, but you just can't rush genius," Mimi joked. She took Amy by the arm and started leading her back into the dressing room. "Now, boys, you'll just have to wait for Halloween for more of this sexy goodness."

"Halloween?" Amy echoed, allowing herself to be lead away. "I'm wearing this on Halloween?"

"Yeah, I'm having my mom mail me a pair of ladybug wings that I wore last year." She lowered her voice and leaned in towards her ear. "Izzy won't be able to take his eyes off of you. Did you see his face? It was so adorably awkward!"

"Adorkable," Amy corrected automatically, and Mimi shrieked with laughter.

"That's perfect!" she said, wiping away a tear of mirth. She led her into the dressing room, turned her around by the shoulders, and started working the zipper at her back. "Now. Do you believe me when I say that Izzy is into you?"

For a moment, Amy was silent, trying to hold back the torrent of emotions that she could feel rising up within her. It seemed to come from below, as if it were magma rising from a hole in the earth, rushing to the surface. But there was no way to hold it back, and she leaned forward and pressed the insides of her wrists against her face. Giggles started forcing their way out of her mouth, and tears began to sting at her eyes. Mimi stared at her for a moment, then smiled and embraced her, pressing her face into her shoulder and patting her back.

"He might like me after all," she managed at last, squishing her friend against her. Her body was trembling, and she was still laughing like an idiot and crying at the same time, but there was no help for it.

"Of course he does," Mimi said gently. "And, once again, the day is saved by Mimi!"

Amy produced a syrupy laugh and blew against Mimi's neck, tickling her, causing her to cry out with delight. As her friendly protests filled the changing room, Amy reflected on how fortunate she was to have this flighty, pushy, wonderful girl in her life.

**Author's Note: **And all I can think is, what were those people in the surrounding changing rooms thinking while Amy and Mimi were having their kissing conversation? Hmm…

I wasn't really feeling the more emotional parts of this chapter D: I was wondering if I had Izzy be a little too forthcoming in his chat with Joe, but, I was like… Poor boy needs to get some stuff off his chest. I tried to emphasize that he was reluctant about it… What do you think? Anyway, I'm a little worn on emotions, because I'm working on emotional bits right now for all three of my stories, and you know what? I need a break! That's why next chapter will have Halloween and drinking and happy fun times! But I've been working on chapters for my other two stories, so we may see updates there, first. Whatever, stay tuned, my lovelies!

Oh yes, I also did want to officially thank Aveza for suggesting a scene where the fire alarm goes off at night. A lovely idea, and one that garnered some super cute cuddling, so… Thank you, my dear! As always, suggestions, comments, whatever… It's all welcome and appreciated.


	19. Halloween Prelude: It Starts

**Author's Note:** So, finally, Halloween! This arc will be contained over a few chapters. This is just an intro, not much happens, sorry guys! But we do get to spend some time in Matt's head (I learned that he thinks a lot and speaks just a little).

It Starts

Yesterday, everything was normal in Amy's room. But when she opened the door today, her eyes immediately fell on a massive sewing machine sitting on Sora's desk. She took a step back into the hallway when she noticed the fabric and random bits of clothing strewn over both beds, hanging from the pipes in the ceiling, and draped over her desk.

"Umm?" she muttered as she entered the room. The sounds of shuffling in the closet confirmed that Sora was somewhere in this mess, so she went ahead and started talking. "Sora? Uh, what is all this?"

Sora's head popped out from behind the edge of the closet door. "Amy! I'm so sorry about the mess, but I'm working on Halloween costumes. Don't worry, I'll clean it up before bed. If something's in the way, go ahead and move it, but please be careful of pins."

Amy's eyes devoured the colors, the textures, the little hints of what the costumes might end up becoming. "How many are you making?" she asked, somewhat skeptically. It seemed like an awful lot of raw materials for one costume.

"Hmm… Well, I'm making mine, Matt's, Tai's, Joe's, and Mimi's. I wanted to make one for you," she added quickly, "but Mimi said you were covered. Oh, and I need to ask you, do you know if Izzy brought black pants and a white button down shirt to college?"

"How are you going to get all of that done by Halloween?!" Amy demanded, her eyes going wide. Sora smiled and sat in front of her sewing machine.

"It's not a problem. We went to the thrift store while you and Izzy were out the other day- everyone I just mentioned, I mean. Most of the pieces were bought there for cheap, and I just need to make a few adjustments, mostly adding details. Most of what you're seeing is material for capes."

"Capes?" Amy echoed. "Stars. I really hope Tai didn't ask you to make him a Superman costume…" That did kind of sound like something he would do…

Sora grinned down at the fabric she was adjusting near the needle. "No, actually, there are no super heroes involved, but Mimi insisted on secrecy. We're the only ones who know who's going as what. The boys were a little reluctant about it."

"And Izzy doesn't even know you're making him something." Amy raised a brow and crossed her arms, balancing a hip against a cinder block wall. Sora looked at her and smiled a little guiltily.

"Tai assured me that he could convince Izzy to go along with whatever he has planned for our Halloween," she said, shrugging.

Amy dropped her forehead into her palm, grinning hugely despite herself. "Izzy will be thrilled to hear that, I'm sure. I'll try to figure out some way of asking him if he has the things you mentioned. I'm fairly certain he'll catch on, though. He's more sharp than I am smooth."

"Don't worry about it," Sora said. She turned the machine on, then raised her voice to be heard above its loud _whir_. "It's sure to be fun, no matter what."

Halloween!

Matt opened the door to Sora's room and pulled back as humidity and heat rolled out. "Eugh!" Tai cried beside him, ever the sensitive one. "Amy, what's _up_? It's like a freaking sauna in here!"

"Sorry!" Mimi's voice called from within the room. "We need all the lights on, and everyone's been changing, and- No, Amy, stop moving! I'm not done yet, say hi to them later."

Squaring his shoulders, Matt made his way into the room, his eyes falling directly on the window, but he grimaced when found it already open. Next, he tried to locate Sora, and he found her standing in front of a dress hanging from the pipes in the ceiling, holding out the sleeves and making a distracted humming sound. He wanted to slip up behind her and press her against him, wanted to slide his lips down the curve of her neck. He knew from experience that a delicious tremor would work its way over her frame, and that a startled, stirring gasp would slip out of her mouth. His tongue passed briefly over his lips as he made his way to her.

"So, Sora, Mimi. Which of these is for me?" Tai's voice froze Matt in place, and a soft, quiet hiss made its way out of him. He had entirely forgotten about Tai, Amy, and Mimi, but of course, they were there, and now wasn't the time for romance. Shaking his head, he forced himself to take a good look around. Amy was sitting in her desk chair, and Mimi was sitting in front of her on Sora's, carefully applying Amy's makeup, pointing every lamp in the room towards Amy's face. Matt's brow shot up at Amy's outfit. She was wearing a tiny, mature black dress, and it showed off more chest than he had ever seen her display, even in swimsuits. He knew instantly that Mimi must have forced that piece into her wardrobe, and he couldn't help but wonder if she would be comfortable like that. He made a mental note to talk to Tai about it.

"Holy shit, Amy!" Tai half shouted, edging around him to make his way towards his cousin. Matt fought to keep his expression clear; he already knew where this was going. "What the hell are you- You can't go out like that!"

_So much for discretion, _Matt thought. He crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels, waiting for the right moment to intercede. He wasn't entirely sure that there would be one. Frankly, he thought Amy looked great, but he also thought that the low cut off the dress would exacerbate her particular brand of male-oriented social anxiety. But there was no way he was going to tell her what to do, although Tai was already throwing himself head first into that direction.

"Shoo, Tai!" Mimi cried, waving a hand at him. "She looks _amazing_." Mimi grabbed Amy's chin and turned her face away from him and Tai, and so Matt couldn't discern her reaction.

"She looks _too _amazing," Tai growled, crossing his arms. "Amy, what are you going to do when all of the drunk boys start staring at your chest and trying to make their way in there?"

_As ever, he aims straight for the heart, _Matt thought. He tipped his eyes towards the ceiling, mostly to distract himself. He was going to start laughing if Tai kept this up. Years and years of watching Tai verbally throw himself off cliffs hadn't made it any less amusing, although the cleanup was sometimes anything but.

"They won't, they won't," Mimi said carelessly. "Well. Yeah, they'll look- heck, _I'll _look- but they won't do anything."

"Are you sure?" Amy asked, and the thin, worried whine in her voice told Matt all he needed to know. The dress was a bad idea.

"They won't," Mimi said firmly. "Izzy will be with you, right? So, no worries." Mimi grinned saucily and squeezed Amy's shoulders, and Amy shifted and began to stare at the ceiling.

"Izzy?" Tai echoed incredulously. "What's Izzy got to do with anything?" Matt fought down a snort, then turned towards Sora at the sound of forced coughing. She was hiding her mouth behind a hand, and her shoulders were shaking slightly. Matt caught her eye, grinned, and rolled his eyes. _He's a bit of an idiot._

She tilted her head and smiled gently, as if to allow, _Maybe just a little. _Then she busied herself with adjusting the dress that she kept fussing with. Matt decided to leave Amy to fend for herself, something that she seemed slightly more determined to do lately, likely under Mimi's influence_. _The sound of Mimi and Tai arguing, with the occasional comment from Amy, seemed to mute as he took the final steps that put him beside his girlfriend.

"Whose dress is that?" he asked. The others were distracted, so he allowed himself the indulgence of entering her personal space. He moved so that her side was against his, then slipped an arm around her. Her slim form slid automatically into his, fitting against him.

She produced a tiny laugh. "It's not a dress. It's... Something of a modified kimono." She stared up at it with determination and hooked a bit of her hair behind her ear.

"Why are you so nervous about it?" he asked, reaching out for the little hands that insisted on darting about the fabric. Once he had them, he threaded his fingers through hers, forcing her to relax.

She sighed and tilted her head. "Am I that obvious?" she asked, grinning ruefully. He caught her eye and raised a single brow, shaking his head minutely. He had always been skilled at reading emotional undercurrents, even with strangers. Sora commanded more of his attention than anyone ever had in the past, with the possible exception of his brother. Of course he could sense how she was feeling.

Apparently she understood what he was getting at, because she smiled and squeezed his fingers with hers. "Ah. Well. I suppose I'm worried that people will find it strange for me to wear a kimono. Do you think people will see it as somehow stuck up, or, I don't know, some kind of failure to assimilate? And then I'm nervous about my modifications. The kimono design is elegant, classic. But it's also kind of restricting to wear one, and I need to be able to move comfortably, so it's simpler and lighter than an actual kimono. I suppose you could say it's somewhere between a kimono and a yukata, but also just... Hmm…"

Matt blinked down at her, surprised by the torrent of words. Her voice was calm, but the fact that she kept talking in a steady, constant stream indicated discomfort, and he was a little surprised to find her so wrapped up in something that seemed like a non-issue to him. "Sora. I think you may be over-thinking this." She stared up at him, her eyes wide, then lowered her face into her palm.

"Do you think so? I tend to do that. Worry about things, over-think things." Her gaze swept up and down the kimono one last time, and then she turned her back to it deliberately, looking into his face, instead. "I wouldn't say I'm neurotic, but I definitely could stand to let go of things more."

Matt shrugged. "Don't worry about it," he said. "And, believe me, you aren't neurotic. But, I can tell you right now, you're going to look amazing in this." He allowed a faint thrumming sound to fill his voice, like the low vibrations of his bass, and his mouth curved into a grin as Sora colored and looked away. He opened his mouth to continue, but a shout from the opposite end of the room diverted his attention.

"Joe! Joe! You have to put your costume on, wait 'till you see it- oh, but I have to finish Amy's hair- Amy, stop squirming! You'll have all night to talk to Izzy, _gawd_!"

Matt shook his head and grinned. Izzy and Joe were standing in the doorway, and the tiny redhead's expression was closed off and annoyed. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his hands holding his elbows, and his brow was pressed heavily over his dark eyes. _I have no interest in this Halloween nonsense, _his posture screamed. Then Amy swiveled her chair around, pawing Mimi away from her, and caught his eye, smiling at him with ridiculous eagerness. Izzy's hands slipped, automatically causing his arms to uncross. Matt followed the path of his eyes to Amy's exposed throat, down to her clavicles, then to her chest, where they definitely lingered.

_His cues have gotten a lot more obvious lately. _Matt had, in his quiet way, been observing Amy and Izzy over the last few weeks, ever since that mess right after the roller skating rink outing. What he had seen, combined with Sora's insight, had more than convinced him that something was brewing there. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. Personally, he would have picked someone less introverted for Amy, but that was her choice. Anyway, he had been among those who thought that Jerry was a good fit for her. And so, although he was still willing to give his opinion if asked, he would never try to influence someone's romantic life ever again.

For now, all that really mattered was that Amy lit up like a Christmas tree around Izzy, and that his slight, muddled hints of reciprocating were no longer so slight and muddled.

"They're so cute, aren't they?" Sora whispered in his ear, standing on her toes to reach. Matt put his hands on her shoulders and smiled, nodding.

"Hopefully, he mans up soon," he muttered in return. He might have continued, but Amy was talking, and the eagerness in her voice had him listening.

"Izzy, we're going to do Halloween stuff! Are you coming?" Izzy's mouth opened and closed, and his hands started to fidget. Amy watched him for a moment, then leaned forward and stared beseechingly up at him, her eyes wide and sweet. Matt couldn't help but wonder if the amazing view of her cleavage was intentional or not. "You're coming, right?"

Mimi patted her back, as though to express approval, and Matt hid his grin with a hand. Had there been coaching involved in preparation for this moment?

"I don't... I assume 'Halloween stuff' involves costumes and parties and drinking." Izzy shifted towards the door, every inch of his scrawny body announcing discomfort.

"Dude, what else would it involve? We're not trick or treating," Tai snorted, absently messing with his hair. Then his eyes fell on his cousin, and they bugged out, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. "And Amy, God, if you're going to wear that..._thing_, you can't go bending over!"

Amy huffed, straightened, and held her shoulders back and up. "Tai. Remember that cheerleader you dated in high school?" Matt couldn't fight back the snorting laugh that popped out of him, and he quickly bent at the shoulders, trying to keep his face out of Tai's view. He remembered Christie, cheerleader and tease extraordinaire, with startling clarity. When she dated Tai, he had been torn between jealousy and disgust. It was a short relationship, filled with much heat, bragging from Tai, and gossip. _Oh, God. Kari and Amy hated her._

Tai colored and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "That was different," he hedged. "And, anyway, you didn't like her, so, like..." He cleared his throat and turned his attention to Izzy, completely looking away from Amy. "Right, uh, anyway. Here's what's happening. We're starting out at a frat house in walking distance to pre-game this shit. The alcohol will be cheap stuff, but we're looking for quantity and low cost before we hit the bar. We might make a stop at a friend's party in between, but that depends on how things go."

Izzy allowed Tai to go on, staring at him politely, his face clear of any real emotion. When Tai finally stopped talking about the specifics of the parties, the little redhead grabbed his chance to speak. "Enjoy yourselves," he said, nodding and turning his body towards the door. But his eyes lingered on Amy, and his face stayed oriented towards the inside of the room.

Joe sighed and looked away from Mimi, who was engaged in cramming a cowboy hat onto his head. "Izzy. I'm going. It won't kill you to come along." Izzy froze in the doorway, his hand tightening around the frame.

"Joe. _You're _encouraging me attend a string of parties. Wherein the clear intent is to get as inebriated as possible and stare at girls in, ah, _slight _raiments." He tilted his head and frowned, his expression torn between shock and confusion. "Am I understanding this properly?" Matt caught Sora's eye and grinned. Izzy was actually pretty hilarious sometimes, and so was Joe, who was currently blushing and keeping his eyes firmly on Mimi, who was stroking the side of his face with clear approval.

"Dude, you really know how to sell something!" Tai cried, laughing. Amy snorted and held her hands out to Izzy, who reluctantly stepped towards her, coming to a stop about half a foot away from her fingers, standing awkwardly just out of her reach. He kept glancing longingly towards the door, yet seemed unable to step through the opening.

Tai came up to Izzy and threw his hands on his shoulders, and Matt grimaced as Izzy's slight body buckled beneath the force. The redhead whirled his face around and stared carefully up at Tai. His polite expression was somewhat marred by the narrowing of his eyes. _That's interesting, _Matt thought, moving slightly closer. _I didn't expect Izzy to have a look like that in him._

"Come on, Izzy," Tai said loudly, thumping him on the back. This produced an oddly hollow sound that somehow emphasized the difference in size between the two of them. "We're expanding your horizons… Think of it as an experiment. Besides, Sora made something for you, and I'll be damned if I'll let her effort go to waste."

Matt couldn't help but frown. That was an awfully possessive way for Tai to talk about Sora, but he was fairly sure that he didn't mean it that way. And, anyway, despite his binge drinking the day of and some occasional usage of the cold shoulder, Tai had taken the loss of Sora pretty well. Matt decided to let it slide, especially in light of the horrified look on Izzy's face, which was sufficiently amusing to distract him.

Izzy began to color and sputter, and his hands waved in front of him. _Poor boy's torn between the desire to be polite and accept what was done for him, and anger at being trapped. _"I, I didn't ask- But- Why-"

"I wanted everyone to have fun together," Sora said, smiling at him beatifically, "so I made something for you. I'm sorry I didn't ask first, but… I do hope you'll accept it." Matt grinned as he watched Izzy's facial muscles freeze. He could understand where Izzy was coming from; it was impossible not to react to Sora's aura of maturity and kindness, especially the first time you found it entirely focused on you.

Amy rolled her chair closer to Izzy, breaching the gap between them. Her hand closed around his, and she tugged slightly, causing him to turn and look down at her. "Please?" she said quietly, staring at the floor. It was suddenly clear to Matt that she hadn't been using feminine wiles on purpose earlier. Otherwise, she wouldn't look so fragile and hesitant now. Her fingers tightened around Izzy's, and his expression softened almost imperceptibly. Then he sighed, released her, squared his shoulders, and crossed his arms.  
"Fine." That was all he said, and his tone was hard and reluctant, but Tai gave him another too-hard clap on the back, and Amy's entire face brightened.

Sora smiled and stepped towards the center of the room. "I'm so glad. And, now that everything's settled, let's all put our costumes on, alright?" She went to her bed, where shopping bags were lying in wait, and distributed them around the room. She received everyone's thanks humbly, then made her way to him, her eyes sparkling. "I put special effort into yours," she whispered as she handed it over. Matt could feel his eyebrows rising. _Should I be flattered, or concerned? _he wondered, unsure of what to make of the excited, slightly devious little twinkle in her eyes.

He settled on thanking her and kissing her forehead as he accepted his bag. Then he followed Tai out of the room, pawing through its contents. His hands met high quality fabric, and a glance inside told him that it was mostly black, with a bit of white and red. He nearly walked into Tai's back as he puzzled over what it could be.

Once they were back in their room, he emptied the bag onto his bed. He found a long, black cape lined with red on the inside and a black pair of slacks. There was also a…well, it was a white shirt that looked like it would show off his throat and upper chest, complete with draping sleeves. It seemed to have come directly off of the cover of a romance novel. Frowning with confusion, he moved the shirt to the side, searching for some indication of what he was supposed to be. He found something white and hard beneath it, and his fingers found the edge of it and lifted. It was a plain, featureless mask, but half of it seemed to be missing.

He was about to ask Tai if he had any ideas about what he was going to be dressed as when a pleased exclamation filled the room. "Hell yeah!" his friend cried, holding up a tri-cornered hat. "I'm a pirate!" He grinned devilishly and sorted through the rest of the costume. "I wonder what kind of _booty _I'll get tonight!" Matt shook his head, refusing to dignify that comment with anything more than a snort and a grin. Matt turned his back as Tai began to strip, then shrugged and started doing the same. Maybe he'd figure it out once he was wearing it.

As he donned the costume, one thing was made painfully clear: Sora had taken a lot of care in making this. The quality and fit was far superior to the costumes their high school had rented for plays, and the attention to detail was stunning. To have done so much, so well, so fast… Fierce pride went through him as he stepped into the pants and found them comfortable, fitted, wonderful. He put on the rest of it, then lifted the mask to his face, although he wasn't sure how it was going to stay put.

When he turned, Tai was wearing light brown breeches and a shirt similar to his own, except in a neutral cream color. He wore a sleeveless, dark brown tunic over that. His hair was smushed down by a red scarf tied down beneath his hat. "What am I supposed to do with these?" he asked, holding out a long piece of white linen lined with red and some sort of imitation leather belt.

Matt grunted and came towards him. He had seen enough pirate costumes to guess that the bit of fabric should be tied around the waist, but the belt seemed too long for it, unless… Nodding to himself, he settled it over one of Tai's shoulders and worked the clasp on his chest, putting it on like a strap that would hold up a scabbard on someone's back. Then he smacked Tai with the hat and stuffed it on his head. Tai punched him playfully on the shoulder, then blinked and stared at him.

"Dude, what are you supposed to be? Masked romance novel guy?"

Matt frowned, realizing that Tai was going to be about as helpful as usual. "I don't really know. Let me take a look in the mirror, it might click if I see it…" He went to his closet door and threw it open. There was a mirror hanging from the inside, and he stepped back and looked into it. The reason for Sora's playfulness was immediately clear; he really did look like he had walked right out of a woman's fantasy, well dressed and sensual, the costume hinting at a possible, enticing invitation. He held the mask back up to his face, and something sparked in his mind.

"I think… Yeah. I'm the Phantom of the Opera," he said, grinning. That was pretty cool. He was fairly certain that the character was surrounded with mystery, sexiness, and darkness, and, of course, had a pleasing, hypnotizing, low voice. He smirked at his reflection, but it faded as he was pushed aside by his friend.

"Great, great, mystery solved. Let me take a look!" Tai stood in front of the mirror, then smiled slowly, squaring his hips. Matt had to admit that his friend looked pretty damn good. The costume, particularly the sleeves of the shirt, was tighter than his, showcasing Tai's athletic build. And, with his hair tamed by the scarf on his head, he actually looked like a normal human being. Somehow, the absence of his head bush seemed to call attention to his eyes, to the masculine cut of his straight, boldly defined nose. "Man," Tai said, leaning in towards his reflection. "I had no idea Sora was this good at making clothes. You know how much a costume like this would cost? We had all better take her to dinner. Like, five times."

Matt grunted his agreement, then shoved Tai back out of the way. "Yeah. Let's finish getting ready and get back to Sora's room. I want to see what everyone else is wearing." He watched Tai roll his eyes behind his back using the mirror. His friend didn't primp the way he did, but, then, Tai wasn't exactly as popular with the ladies, either. Tai paced around the room as he worked on his hair and put on his dressiest shoes, then led the way back to Sora's room.

When he stepped through the door, his eyes immediately fell on Izzy, whose back was pressed up against Amy's front. His hands were held out defensively in front of him as Mimi advanced, holding out what looked like a bottle of liquid glitter.

"Come on, Izzy!" she wheedled, holding out the bottle. "You're a _vampire_. You need to sparkle!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Izzy muttered, backing away from Mimi's hands. Amy's hands moved to his shoulders.

"Oh, by Hera's bitter heart! How I envy your ignorance," she sighed. She began to work his shoulders, and he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch automatically. Matt watched with interest. Izzy usually displayed a sort of detached calm, his dark eyes watching the rest of their group, rarely speaking unless prompted. And yet, he never really seemed relaxed; it was as if he was always on guard, or at least always trying to pick up every signal and bit of information about the world around him. But he responded with enthusiasm to the massage, and some of that tenseness slipped away before Matt's eyes.

"He doesn't want the glitter, Mimi. Understandably so," Amy continued, and Izzy grunted in a distracted way that seemed to be agreement.

"How will anyone know he's a vampire?" Mimi demanded. "He's just wearing a black cape and normal clothes." Izzy was, in fact, wearing black slacks, a white button down shit, and a cape.

"I'm sorry," Sora said, and Matt whirled around to face her, eager to see her outfit, but she was obscured by the open closet door. "I thought that Izzy wouldn't be comfortable in full costume, so I went with something simple. Maybe you could use makeup to make it look like there's blood dribbling from his mouth?"

"Oh, I can be his victim!" Amy said, laughing. "You can give me the little bite marks." She tilted her head and pushed her long hair away, exposing the pale stretch of her neck. Izzy craned his neck around to look up at her, and he colored a bit, no doubt imagining delivering that bite. _I can't believe this. Amy seems to instinctively know how to get to him. And, to think, she's always been clueless about working what she's got in the past…_

"Good idea!" Mimi said encouragingly. Izzy sighed and turned his head back towards her.

"I'm not going to have a say in this, am I?" he muttered, but he allowed Mimi to grab his wrist and plop him down into a desk chair.

Mimi ignored his comment entirely, which had Matt grinning. "Amy," she said, tossing her the bottle in her hands. It landed squarely on Amy's chest, and she clasped her hands to her bosom to catch it. "Rub that on your…_front._" Mimi grinned saucily and began to shuffle through her make up supplies, no doubt searching for an adequate blood substitute.

Amy blushed and frowned, but she opened the bottle obediently and turned towards the wall to apply the glitter across her neck and the exposed area of her chest. Matt cleared his throat and looked elsewhere, and his eyes fell on Joe, who was sitting on Amy's bed, staring around at the many stimuli in the tiny dorm room. Like Izzy's, his costume was simple and composed mostly of ordinary clothing. He was wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, a neckerchief, and a cowboy hat. Frowning, Matt realized that he still didn't know what Mimi was wearing, so he turned towards her. She was wearing a skimpy little dress that almost looked like…

"Mimi, sorry, but.. Are you dressed as… As a horse?" Matt asked, tipping his head. The fabric was patterned like an appaloosa's coat, and she had a tail and a pair of horse-like ears in her hair, attached with clips. She wore amazingly cute cowboy boots, as well.

"Yeah!" Mimi chirped. "Gosh, I didn't see you two come in! Anyway, yeah, I'm the horse, and Joe's the rider!" Joe whimpered quietly and buried his forehead in his palm, dislodging his hat in the process. Matt swallowed the choking sound working up his throat. That was some frank sexual innuendo, right there. Tai, as usual, wasn't as subtle. He snorted and doubled over, but Matt could clearly identify the moment when his friend realized that he was jealous. Tai wasn't all that good at hiding the fact that he… Well, that he wanted to be in a romantic relationship, for reasons that were often physical.

"Oh, when did you get here, Matt?" Sora asked, poking her head out from beyond the open closet door. Her eyes widened and her jaw slackened when she saw him. Amy and Mimi looked over at him in unison, and Matt felt himself smirking as Amy colored and Mimi absently licked her lips.

"Sora, the craftmanship of this costume is amazing. I can't believe you're so talented. Thank you so much." Matt focused his eyes on Sora's, knowing that she reacted strongly to that. His smirk grew as she worked her mouth, but made no sound. She stepped towards him, moving as if in a trance, but he was suddenly having his own problems as her body was revealed. He didn't know anything about kimonos or yukatas, but she was wearing something with long, draping sleeves that crossed over itself in the front. A wide piece of fabric covered the area beneath her chest to the bottom of her waist, and the kimono flared out into a short, playful skirt below that. The fabric was white with a sophisticated pattern of leaves, stems, and purple flowers.

"You both look so hot!" Mimi cried, her voice high with delight.

"Yes," Amy said, and she sounded puzzled, but Matt didn't look away from Sora to investigate. "But why didn't you go as Christine?"

Sora blinked, then wrenched her eyes away from him, as though with great effort. "Oh… I… I probably should have thought of that," she said, shifting her weight with embarrassment. "I suppose I just really wanted to make a kimono…"

"Well, you look fantastic." Matt couldn't stop himself from going to her and laying his hands possessively on her hips. Although he was eager to go out with his friends, he suddenly wished that they were all elsewhere…

Tai's voice, loud and irritable, cut off that pleasant train of thought. "Come on, guys, let's get moving before Halloween's over."

"Hold your horses," Mimi joked, and she dabbed at Izzy's face, ignoring his grimacing. The girls spent some more time getting ready while the boys chatted, and then, finally, they were on their way. They filed out of the room one by one, and then Matt took hold of Sora's tiny hand, ready to enjoy a night of semi-recklessness with her.

**Author's Note**: Wow. That was 5K words of nothing, guys, sorry about that, but I'm fairly sure there was some entertaining stuff buried in there… But I don't think I would blame anyone who skimmed this one. However, stay tuned, because the next chapter has some really interesting stuff in it, and I'm so excited to share it. Please look forward to watching Izzy be politely badass in dealing with a certain someone from his past, among other things.

Updates have been sparse, because I am buying my first house with my fiance, and that is practically a full time job on top of my normal one. But I do have a lot already written for this arc, so hopefully there won't be another really long stretch. I hope you enjoy it :D


	20. Halloween: The Encounter

Halloween: The Encounter

Izzy knew this exercise was a mistake the moment they reached frat row. Costumed youths were waltzing about the streets, yelling and shouting, slurring and stumbling, many of them carrying alcohol in the open, despite being underage. There was music and noise and movement everywhere, and he was not at all surprised when Amy edged towards him and took his arm, crowding his left side, squishing herself between him and Tai.

"Aren't you cold?" Izzy asked, glancing over at her. As promised that day in the mall, she was wearing her little black dress, along with what appeared to be thick black tights and tiny, simple black shoes. Unlike Mimi, who seemed to have a separate pair of shoes for every outfit, Amy had simple, round toed shoes, not entirely unlike penny loafers, in brown and in black. She also had rain boots and a pair of flip flops for showering, and he had noticed the snow boots standing in the back of her closet. That was it. She also had just one purse, although admittedly it was a very high quality one, from what he could tell of such things.

He shook his head to clear out those irrelevant thoughts. The point was, much of her upper body was uncovered, open to the cold night air of late October. "You can borrow the cloak, if you'd like," he said politely.

"She'll be too hot once we get to the frat house," Mimi called from over her shoulder. "I tried to get her to leave the tights behind..."

"I wanted _some _part of my body covered," Amy muttered into his ear, and he grinned half-heartedly. He couldn't think of a polite, appropriate answer, so he said nothing. "And thanks for your offer, but I don't want to smush my wings."

Izzy nodded and took a look at the spotted ladybug wings tied to the straps of her dress. They seemed rather delicate, a thin skein of material wrapped around a thin, wire backbone. He rather doubted that they would survive the evening, at least given what he was seeing now. Really, it wasn't much of a costume, but there was no denying that she looked... No, no, he didn't have an adjective that he could think while maintaining his normal, detached expression. He tilted his face towards the concrete of the sidewalk to hide it. In addition to forcing her friend into a tiny, sexy dress, Mimi had done Amy's makeup carefully, accenting her eyes with shimmering, golden eyeshadow. Somehow, her eyelashes had gone from incredibly long to explosive, thickened and darkened by some mysterious form of feminine magic. There was a permanent, slightly sparkling spread of color over her cheeks, and her lips had been painted a juicy, shining shade of red, like the skin of an apple.

And Amy had spread glitter liberally across her front at Mimi's command, the same glitter that he had been mercifully spared, although he did have some kind of red stuff dribbling from the corners of his mouth, like a clumsy toddler with a cup of fruit punch. As if she needed some sort of sparkling signal to help people find that amazing view... Mimi had grabbed his chin and turned his face away from Amy and toward her when Amy applied the glitter, smirking into his face all the while. His teeth began to grind at the memory. Mimi wanted him to go insane. That was the only logical explanation for her behavior.

Well, that was only partially true. He knew what Mimi wanted, and the thought had him forming tight fists. His aversion to going out tonight was only half due to his general distaste for partying. The other half was the typical culprit: fear, uncertainty. What if, once Tai had somehow forced a certain amount of alcohol down his throat, he said something to Amy that he normally wouldn't have? What if he announced his affection for her, and she didn't reciprocate? What if she _did_? He didn't even know which scenario was more terrifying. Without thinking, he passed his fingers over the hand clinging to his arm. _Whatever may occur tonight, I hope you'll still be willing to hold on to me on the way home._

Amy's grip tightened, and she smiled and shifted closer, so that their hips brushed with the next step. "Thanks for coming out tonight," she said quietly, tilting her shoulders in what seemed to be an attempt to block out Tai.

"To be honest, I'm surprised you wanted to," Izzy returned. He remembered her aversion to the frat house party where they met.

Amy shrugged and shivered, then crowded him even more, fighting for some warmth. "Mimi would have killed me if I didn't wear the dress. And, anyway, I really love Halloween. The costumes, the candy, the dark themes... I don't know, I just... It's probably my favorite holiday. I would have been really depressed if everyone was out enjoying it, except for me."

"It would have been my pleasure to keep you company." What, did she think he would have left her all alone on a holiday, even if it wasn't one that particularly encouraged togetherness? "You have zombie games we could have played, if you wanted to stay true to the theme." A thin surge of longing worked its way through him at the thought of being completely alone with her for a few hours, with no risk of any of their well-meaning, but intrusive, friends intervening. He almost wished that he dared suggest making their way back to do just that.

"Ah," Amy said reluctantly, tipping her head. "But the costumes...!"

"If you really desired it, I could have worn the cape," Izzy said, forcing a sigh out from between his smiling lips. "And you could have worn your costume." _For no one but me, alone in your room, without the leggings... And, perhaps I could have convinced you to allow me to apply the glitter... _Suddenly, Izzy noticed the rapid downward spiral of his thoughts, and he twitched violently. _When did this situation deteriorate so greatly? _he wondered, casting a doleful glance at the full moon hovering in the sky, half obscured by dark clouds. _I seem to recall being far more proper than this._

There was a slight pause, and Izzy felt his muscles tensing up. Sometimes he could swear that Amy knew what he was thinking, although of course those fears were baseless. "We'll have fun, Izzy," she said at last. "We did last time, right? Mostly?" Izzy made a noncommittal sound, then frowned as a passing boy dressed as a ninja nearly shoved him off of the sidewalk in his drunken attempt to get by their group. He really wasn't looking forward to a full night's exposure to wasted fools.

They walked on for a few minutes, and then Tai sped up until he was in front of everyone. "This is it," he said, pointing at the house. But Izzy was only guessing at the content of Tai's shouting. Even from outside, the collective noise of music and chatter was loud enough to obscure his voice.

"Matt. Matt! Maaaaatt!" Amy released him and waved her hands, trying to get her friend's attention. The movement caught his eye, and he raised an eyebrow. She pointed towards her ears, and Matt nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets, then tossed a plastic baggie to her. Amy smiled her thanks, opened the bag, and pulled something out of it. She picked up his hand and deposited something soft, foam-like, and flesh colored inside his palm.

_Ear plugs, _he realized. For a moment, he puzzled over it, then shrugged and put them in. He certainly wasn't concerned about his image, and he could always take them out if he found himself unable to understand his friends. _It makes sense that Amy would be concerned about her sense of hearing, as a vocalist, I suppose. _Amy passed the baggie around, but most of their friends passed it up. But, as they stepped into the frat house, the din went from loud to skull-shattering, and both Joe and Sora caught her attention and accepted them.

Amy handed the bag off to him this time, and he pocketed it. Then she froze, and Izzy instantly knew why; the crowd of people was immense, and the frat house was hot and humid with their body heat. The only illumination was provided by themed lighting, jack-o-lantern shaped strings of lights, a few flickering, electronic candles, and the like. Amy shuddered and clung to him, one hand around his elbow, the other clinging tightly to his shoulder. Izzy sighed, knowing that no one had any hope of hearing it, and resigned himself to an evening of having her publicly smushed up against him. _It's a pity there are no stimuli to encourage this behavior when we're alone. Perhaps a frightening film or video game would induce the same result?_

Tai was leading the way into the house, nudging people aside, and, having nothing better to do, Izzy followed, hauling Amy along with him. Apparently Tai knew someone who lived here- Izzy suddenly realized that, with the possible exception of Mimi, Tai had the most active social life among them- because he led them unerringly to the kitchen, where he deposited the bag he had been carrying onto the counter. There was a little more light in here, and Izzy could make out Tai extracting two two-liter bottles of Coke and a huge bottle of rum on the table. _That must be party etiquette, _Izzy thought. Then he watched as Tai stowed the bag away on top of a cabinet, hinting that there were more offerings within, possibly for the next place they were visiting.

Amy slipped away from him and made her way into her cousin's personal space. She reached in front of him and grabbed a Dixie cup, then picked up the rum. Izzy watched, eyes wide, as she poured some into the cup, stared inside, then deliberately poured more.

"You trying to kill yourself there, Amy?" Tai asked, shaking his head.

"I need it," she said tensely, setting the rum down with a loud thud. _She can be crabby when she's on edge, _Izzy realized. Amy filled the remainder of the cup with Coke, but Tai shook his head and eased the potent concoction out of her hands.

"I'm confiscating this. Let me pour you another. You'll never get through the night if you drink this much up front." But then he took a deep draught from the cup, and Amy's eyes narrowed. "What? My tolerance is better than yours." Amy sighed and watched him prepare a replacement, which he then handed off to her, with a final warning to drink it slowly. As soon as his back was turned, she took a massive swallow, ignoring the clear disapproval on Matt's face.

The others were moving about the kitchen, waiting in long lines for access to the various containers of alcohol and soda spread about the limited counter space. Izzy's brow furrowed as he realized that there simply was not enough alcohol to meet the demand for more than an hour or so. He supposed that would be their cue to move on to the next place.

His musings were cut off by Tai, who was tilting a cup slightly in front of his face. Blinking, Izzy wrapped his hands around it automatically. _Wonderful_, he thought, staring into the dark liquid. _We meet again, Captain Morgan. _He began to wonder if he could hand it off to someone else without Tai noticing.

"Tai! Hey, man! Glad you could make it- and, _damn_, you brought such cute girls, too!" Izzy raised a brow and turned towards the shouting voice. His eyes fell on a lanky, slightly tanned boy whose build was similar to Tai's. Perhaps they were teammates, or had been in the past. "Amy, Matt, good to see you- nice mask, dude- holy crap, Mimi! Been a while!"

Mimi tilted her head and smiled. "Ah, Danny. Thanks for having us." That seemed to solve the mystery; this Danny was almost certainly from Tai's high school soccer team, probably a year older than they were. He moved with the comfort and confidence of one who belonged where he was, hinting that he lived in this frat house, and it was a bit early in the year for a freshman to be in that position.

"Believe me, you are always welcome," Danny said, winking. Izzy fought to keep his expression neutral. He generally wasn't a fan of flirtatious characters, particularly when they gave his best friend's girlfriend a look like that. "Oh, and I see you brought some supplies. Classy move, I appreciate it."

"No problem." Tai bumped fists with him, or at least tried to; Danny was apparently drunk enough to have some problems with his hand-eye coordination, and he entirely missed his friend's hand. Shaking his head, Izzy returned his attention to Amy, who was standing slightly away from the group in the corner of the room, furthest from the counters and the crowds. She continually drank from her cup, and kept leaning further against the wall at her back, as if she were trying to make more room for herself. Before long, she frowned into her drink, then snuck behind Tai and made herself another. Izzy hastened to intercede.

His hands closed around the rum bottle before she could pour it. "Amy, what in the world are you trying to do?" he hissed, clutching the alcohol to his chest.

"I can't deal with all these people sober." Her voice didn't sound like her at all; it was strained and high. "I need to be a little tipsy."

Izzy raised a brow. "You already finished a drink."

"Tai made it weak, for once," Amy said, sighing. "Because the idea is that we'll be drinking all night. I won't have anything again until the buzz wears off. I don't want to fight my way back to the kitchen, anywho… Cover me." Izzy frowned as she poured about two shots of straight, 100 proof alcohol into her cup, then swallowed them with a choking sound. "Uuuugh, it's so burny!" she complained.

"I can't believe you just did that," Izzy said, his voice sounding surprised even to his own ears. To make matters worse, Izzy already recognized the slight use of the cutesy, odd language that she favored when inebriated. He somehow doubted that Tai had poured her drink as weak as she assumed. He frowned, stole her cup, and tossed it into the open trashcan. Then he fastened a hand to her wrist, determined to keep her in his sights. She smiled, then forced her hand upward, so that it closed around his.

"Thanks, Izzy. I feel better when you're close. I know you probably don't really like this, but… Thanks." Izzy licked his lips, feeling suddenly and inexplicably nervous, and took a large drink from his own cup. Then he cleared his throat roughly and stared into the crowd with great determination.

"Just… Just stay near," he said gruffly. His fingers shifted uncomfortably in hers, especially when her eyes turned to his, wide and overflowing with disbelieving gratitude. He jumped when she jerked beside him.

"What's the matter?" he demanded, glancing about. But the dark and the crowd made it difficult to discern the surroundings, so he could not identify any problems.

"Everyone's gone." She began to nudge her way through the people nearby, and their spot was immediately filled by other guests. Izzy followed her, stepping into the rapidly closing gaps that her passage created. The crowd was like a massive, writhing organism, and securing a route through it seemed impossible. Fantastic sights and colors, dulled somewhat by the darkness, passed rapidly before his eyes as they moved, disorienting him. Drunken kids shouted and laughed, and Izzy edged away slightly, pulling his limbs in close to his core, trying not to allow them to splash him or dance into him. Eventually, Amy said something to him, but she was facing forward, and he could not hear her from his spot behind her. She released him, and Izzy quickly lost track of her in the pulsating human collective.

For a moment, he stood entirely still, cursing himself for the moment of inattention that had caused their separation. Izzy glanced this way and that, trying to see one of his friends through the massive crowd of inebriated youths, but he was too short to get a good view of anything except shoulders and necks. He considered texting Joe or Amy, but he couldn't make out any distinctive features of the room for directions, since its walls were entirely blocked by people. He tried to move through the undulating sea of costumed bodies around him, but he was too small and polite; he kept getting elbowed aside.

_If Amy doesn't find someone she knows, she might have a panic attack, _he realized, and that thought had him forcefully making a way through the room, edging past people and shoving back when he was shoved. Dark liquid kept sloshing around in the Dixie cup that Tai had forced into his hands, and he was sick of worrying about it. Taking a deep breath, he downed its contents in a few large swigs, grimacing and gasping at the burning sensations down his throat and up his nasal cavities. His stomach turned, and he let the empty vessel fall to the floor, where so many of its discarded brothers lay, crumpled and crushed, crunching underfoot.

Eventually, he began to make out the long, spindly legs of stools through slight glimpses between moving hips and legs, and he did his best to make his way over to the table, hoping to get a higher vantage point from an elevated seat. It was a struggle, but, before long, he was climbing onto a mercifully empty stool pushed up against the far side of a counter, breathing deeply in an attempt to catch his breath. His dark eyes scanned the room, looking for long hair that magically called slivers of light to its silken strands, for a cowboy hat, or some other sign of his friends. But no one familiar was in sight, and he sighed, taking in the room instead. But, as was typical of college dwellings, there was little real furniture (the scant tables and cardboard boxes had probably been cleared out beforehand), and he couldn't make out the details of the posters taped to the walls. All was darkness, chattering, and deafening hip hop.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out and found a text from Amy, asking what had happened to him. He was in the middle of texting her back when a dark, throaty laugh had him glancing away from the screen. All of a sudden, his heart was either working at double time, or had stopped entirely; he honestly had no clue which one it was. Something was horrifically wrong in his chest, that was all he could be certain of.

He was face to face with Shauna, staring into her eyes, seeing her sensuous smile. That angular, pixie-like face was every bit as devastating as he remembered, and, unless he was very much mistaken, her eyes were even more captivating than before. He remembered reading somewhere that cobras could daze their prey by fixing them with a piercing gaze. It was a myth, of course; the prey merely froze out of fear, or in an attempt to avoid being seen, but still… This had to be a similar sensation, and his body went stiff for a moment. Then, slowly, feeling began to return to his body, and his fingers clung to the edge of the counter, as if to steady himself. He forced himself not to panic, to stare at her impassively, and he impressed himself by somehow keeping his expression disinterested and calm. But, of course, he was shocked and horrified, emotions that seemed to work down to his very soul. Normally, his mind was organized and highly structured, but thoughts began to bounce around chaotically within it. _I thought I was finally free of you. I should have known better; many of my old classmates attend this school. I've been expecting this, truthfully, but wishing it would not come to pass so intensely that I never really acknowledged that expectation. If there really are omnipotent beings in the universe, I sincerely hope that they at least keep Amy out of this encounter._

He straightened his posture automatically and pulled back from her, instinctively putting as much distance as possible between the two of them. This afforded him a better view, and he almost laughed, darkly and humorlessly, when he realized that she was dressed as Cleopatra. Her eyelids were covered with shimmering golden eye shadow, just like Amy's, and her black eyeliner was applied liberally, with a long, straight line winging out from the far corners of her eyes. Rosy blush, flecked with more gold, covered her cheeks, and her lips, as was her preference, were covered with dark red lipstick. A snake formed a circlet around her black bob, its mouth spread in a hiss on her forehead, its teeth gleaming with fake red gemstones. Her thin, lanky body was sparsely covered with a gold-and-white dress that probably would have been remarkably out of place in the real Cleopatra's wardrobe. There were golden snakes wrapped around her arms, slithering down to her wrists, and her legs were covered with the winding golden straps that held up her sandals.

On the whole, it was a most impractical getup for late October, but Izzy very much doubted that she was concerned with such matters.

"Hey, Izzy," she began, her voice husky and low. "I've been wondering when I'd run into you." She twirled the thin, red straw in her drink, clinking the ice against the glass, and Izzy spared a moment to wonder how she had procured ice, a glass cup, and what appeared to be straight scotch at a college party. Then he grimaced and averted his eyes. What was he thinking? Shauna could get whatever she wanted, even if it meant sending someone out on the street, in costume, to happily buy it for her.

Izzy refused to exchange pleasantries with her, so he went with stating the obvious. "You've spoken to Michael." He cast his dark eyes around the crowd, searching for some kind of escape. If he simply slipped down from his stool and walked away, would she follow? Would she cause some kind of dramatic scene? Seeing Shauna again was bad enough, but he could deal with it. He had been half expecting it for a while now, and, after all, he had already endured an entire one and a half school years of routinely seeing her, having broken up with her in the middle of his junior year. But his slim frame trembled at the thought of Amy being introduced to her. That would be like shoving a defenseless lamb into the jowls of a ravenous wolf, although he wasn't sure if the lamb here was him or Amy. The absolute last thing he wanted, barring true disasters, was for Amy to find out about his past with Shauna before he had time to solidify their strange, tremulous connection. He swallowed down his panic, glanced to his right, and stole the drink belonging to his neighbor, downing it in one great swig, never bothering to identify it. The bracing burn down his esophagus confirmed that it was going to do the trick. His mind offered up a mental apology to the boy beside him, followed by, _believe me, I need this far more than you do, friend._

Shauna's saucy smile grew as she watched him. "Mm. Yes, of course. How are you, these days? Michael tells me you're... with someone." Her lower lip protruded, and Izzy realized that she was pulling out her sexy pout.

Izzy broke away from his eye-twitching search for an exit long enough to fix her with a deadpan stare. "That's well within my rights. After all, _you_ broke up with me, if you'll recall. Not that I was ever given the courtesy of a clear notification to that effect." Her implication that she had any right to be upset about his moving on nearly had him choking on his annoyance. He slammed the empty cup down and instantly wished that it were made of glass, like Shauna's. The dull thud of plastic on the surface of the counter was a poor substitute for the high, penetrating clink of glass.

The muscles in her face tightened, and that smile vanished. "Izzy," she said, leaning towards him, wafting an enticing scent, some mixture of dark wood, amber, and orchids, all over him, "about that. I... I'm glad I ran into you. I've wanted to say this to you for a while, now. I was going through a lot when we were dating, I was under a lot of pressure from my parents. I wanted to act, but they wanted me to do something more practical. I only did that to you because I needed-"

"I'm aware of what you needed," he said through gritted teeth. "And I'm not interested in your excuses. If your intention is to expiate your guilt by spouting words at me, kindly refrain from wasting both our time." His fingers began to drum against the surface of the counter. He had never denied an honest repentant his forgiveness before. Holding on to a grudge was a waste of time and energy, as far as he was concerned. But he couldn't seem to let this one go, perhaps because he sincerely doubted that Shauna understood or cared about the pain she had forced him to endure.

For a moment, Shauna's lips curled into something ugly, some bastard child of a grimace and a sneer, but she smoothed it out at once. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, and Izzy felt his brow rise as he watched her lean over the counter, balancing her elbows on its surface. He had never, ever seen Shauna display hesitance or guilt before, but he knew better than to blindly believe in what he was seeing. The beautiful woman beside him could convince anyone of anything almost effortlessly, and he was powerfully aware of that.

"This isn't just about me wanting your forgiveness," she breathed, and Izzy almost lost the words entirely in the surrounding noise, but he refused to lean closer. She paused, no doubt waiting for some response from him, but he wasn't in the mood to humor her. He continued to stare stonily at her profile, his hands toying with his cell, making it as obvious as he could that she was only receiving a token amount of his attention. Finally, she exhaled slowly and turned her eyes towards him. They were wide and soft, almost beseeching.

"Do you like college?" It was a normal, innocuous question, but her tone seemed to suggest that she was making some soul-searching query, like a child asking an adult what happens after death.

But Izzy refused to be caught up in her dramatics. "It's been an education." He moved his eyes to the message Amy had sent him. _Where are you? Don't get lost. I'm not lost. Tai's here. It's too crowded, I want to find you. _Despite everything, a small smile formed on his face. Her concern and anxiety were evident, even through characters on a screen, and she was so oddly adorable when tipsy (but, she did not, he noticed, make typos or grammatical errors). He reread the message over and over again, letting her desire to be near him warm and soothe. What was he doing, wasting time with Shauna when she wanted him? Then his smile grew as he realized the truth of what he had just offhandedly spoken. What was going on between him and Amy was murky and muddled, and yet it had already forced him to feel and work through a treacherous quagmire of emotions. And he had come out stronger, or at least less broken than he had been when he entered it. "Just not in the way I had anticipated."

For a moment, Shauna stared at him blankly. Then shook her head, as if to clear it, and smiled shakily. "Cryptic as always." She looked at him expectantly, but he felt no desire to return the nicety by parroting her question. After all, he didn't care in the slightest about her college experience.

"Anti-social as always," she added, rolling her eyes. "In some ways, I enjoy college. I get to act every day, and my skills are admired."

"Heaven save you from a world where you aren't admired," Izzy muttered, cutting her off. His tongue pressed against the back of his upper teeth as he realized his rudeness. Apparently, the alcohol he had just chugged was loosening his tongue and his mind's control over it. But he wasn't going to apologize to her, so he let the comment stand.

Shauna's brow furrowed deeply, and she emptied her drink into her mouth in one great swig. Her expression didn't sour at all at the taste. "You've changed," she said, sitting down the glass.

Izzy felt his brow rising. "At your hands." _This woman is entirely unbelievable. Did she really fail to notice the effects of the damage she inflicted on me? I knew I was insignificant to her, but this… _His teeth began to grind violently, and he forced himself to think of something else, anything else. He began to name all of the moons surrounding planets in the Milky Way. _Earth's moon, Phobos, Deimos, Io, Europa, Ganymede, Callisto… I still cannot believe that I ever had any kind of attachment to you- No! No- Hyperion, Phoebe…_

Shauna's hands began to toy nervously with the glass, twitching it about the surface of the counter, but she stopped abruptly. Then, she tilted her head down and began to speak, as if she were conversing directly with the counter. "But, even though I'm meeting lots of new people, it's been… Sometimes, it's… Sometimes, it's a little lonely." There was a long, uncomfortable pause, and then Shauna turned her face towards his, lifting her dark eyes compellingly. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I'm afraid I've been having the opposite problem. Lately, I can't seem to keep people from knocking my door down." His tone was dry, and perhaps would have been affectionate if his nerves weren't so fried with his proximity to Shauna. He was thinking of Joe and Mimi prodding and almost bullying him, respectively, to ask Amy out, of Tai shoving him out of his room and into parties, of Amy constantly wanting to be where he was.

But he could also understand why Shauna was feeling let down with college, and his lingering ability to make sense of her moods and emotions frustrated him to the core. In all of her schooling prior to college, she had been the proverbial big fish in a small pool. Everyone knew her, everyone loved her, everyone was dazzled by her. And, although she doubtlessly already had a crowd of followers here, most of the people around her failed to react to her. There was no way for the entire student body to be in the palm of her hand any more; the world had grown beyond her ability to contain and astound it. _Still_, he thought, grimacing at his cell phone, _she must be drunk. She always wanted others to envy her, wanted to create the impression of being a perfect person living a perfect life. Unless…_

"Kindly get to your point. My friend is somewhere in this mess, and she's asking for me," he said, making a slight gesture with his phone. Frustration immediately bubbled through him; he didn't want Shauna growing curious about his female friends, which he had never had before, any more than he wanted Amy finding out about Shauna, mostly because the first could easily lead to the second.

"What are you talking about?" Shauna asked, her tone a mixture of innocence and suspicion.

"You want something from me. Otherwise, you wouldn't admit to being anything but blissfully happy and fulfilled." Izzy delivered this statement in a bored, detached monotone. It reminded him of Joe reading off a string of numbers from an experiment to Amy as she typed up their lab report.

For a moment, Shauna's eyes widened, but soon she was producing that velvety, chocolaty laugh, the same one that had once sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, Izzy. You always were direct, but this is a bit much, don't you think?" Izzy stared at her impassively, his expression dull and unblinking. A muscle worked in Shauna's cheek, twitching once, twice, before it smoothed back out.

She leaned into him, and he ordered himself not to retreat, not to show any sign of weakness. One of her long, graceful pointer fingers extended to its full length and pressed against his chest, drawing tiny circles against his manubrium. Her eyes lowered, and her voice dipped into its lowest, darkest, most compelling pitch. "Fine," she whispered, and she moved closer still, until he could feel her breath on his face when she spoke. Disgust and something like hate were building up more and more as she closed the distance between them, but Izzy forced himself not to react. This territory was becoming dangerous, but he wanted to allow her to reveal exactly what she was thinking before he interceded.

"Come home with me," she said, and that fluttering, purring quality that he remembered so well was heavy in her voice. But his body failed to respond as it once had. Frankly, he was revolted, and it was a battle to prevent himself from sputtering like an outraged cartoon character. She had used and discarded him like a snot-encrusted tissue, and she had the gall to expect him to come running back to her at the snap of her fingers, just so she could regain something she had possessed when the world was truly her oyster.

There was some part of him that wanted to grab her shoulders and shake as he tried to make her understand the depths of what she had done to him, but he knew she wasn't worth the effort, and that it would be a futile exercise. So he took a deep breath, looked her straight in the eye, and pulled out a technique that he had learned from Amy. "Michael told you that I'm seeing someone," he reminded her, implying something that wasn't exactly true by speaking a truth.

Shauna snorted and tipped her head back, and the unattractiveness of the gesture proved that she was fairly far along in the liquid portion of her Halloween celebration. "You wanna know what he told me? He told me there was a stomping _cow_ clinging to your arm. A bitch who brushed him off like he was nobody. I thought I'd offer you something that doesn't have to be separated into meat cuts before anyone can make use of it."

For a moment, Izzy was so overwhelmed with fury that he couldn't react, and a few seconds ticked by with no sound between them. Then, choice words began to swirl through his brain, all most uncomplimentary towards the woman seated beside him, landing on one final damnation: _you are nothing like her. The girl you so disdain, having never spoken to her, having never seen her, is infinitely superior to you. _

Although he had always believed that Amy was far preferable to Shauna, having the evidence smeared on his face, where it sat, stinging and burning like wasabi paste, solidified that notion, granting it strange power. "Joe was entirely correct," he breathed. "The two of you, the girl I esteem now and you, are so completely disparate… It's entirely ridiculous to expect her to treat me in the same manner that you did. And, while it may not be possible to stop feeling the damage you wrought in me, it may be possible for me to release some of the fear that it will happen again." Suddenly, _finally, _logic won out over emotions, and a large portion of his fear fled, paradoxically granting him access to an emotion he had been beating back and denying: his feelings for Amy.

It was painfully clear what he had to do, and the sooner, the better. That thought had him sliding off of the bar stool, and he was so focused that he forgot about Shauna entirely.

"I don't understand," Shauna called, raising her voice. "Where are you going?" Izzy cast a half-hearted glance back at her, his heart sinking as he remembered that she was near. Her face contorted before his eyes, and he had a sudden image of Medusa, perhaps because of all the snakes involved in her costume. "You're turning me down. You're going to find your _cow_, instead."

He might have been more careful with his phrasing, knowing that an angry Shauna was not a pleasant thing, but he was too focused on finding Amy, and words slipped out of him without much thought. "I prefer her to you in every way. And, even if I didn't know her, I would never have accepted your… offer. There can never again be accord between us, let alone intimacy."

Her face paled, as if he had said something obscene. And, of course, he now remembered that being overshadowed was among her least favorite things. Her lips rose into a sneer, and he could practically feel her brain working, pushing its way through intoxication to come up with some sort of comeback. "Your costume… A vampire?" Shauna asked, flicking her eyes quickly up and down his body. Izzy sighed, knowing that she was trying to retaliate in an attempt to salvage her wounded pride. "I get that. You never did seem to want to go outside during the day. But, then, you never went out at night, either..."

Izzy stared at her for a moment, then began to laugh, dropping his forehead into his palm all the while. "Really?" he said at length. "You're really going to go there when you're dressed as an incestuous, whoring, power-hungry, fratricidal woman?"

Her mouth snapped shut, and her nostrils flared. Izzy knew he should leave now, but it felt remarkably good to finally, _finally_ have the upper hand with her, and his words just kept on coming. "You are aware, of course, that Cleopatra committed suicide."

Shauna's eyes were suddenly steely flints in the distance. "Are you trying to suggest something, Izzy?" she asked, her voice low and hard.

"Not at all," he said, and there was a strange sadness to his tone. Seeing her there, shaking slightly, trying to look proud and strong in the garb of a famous woman… Somehow, he pitied her just a little. He had the sudden sense that her goals and desires could never buy her more than momentary, fleeting happiness. "It's merely a warning. Enjoy your evening."

He ducked into the crowd, hoping against hope that it would swallow him and hide him from her view, and that he could somehow convince Tai that it was time to move on to the next party. He had had just about enough of this one.

**Author's note: **Wow, Shauna's a bitch when she's drunk, isn't she? That was some harsh stuff she said, there, dude. And Izzy, way to kick some butt! I'm so proud. What is Izzy going to do now that he's finally let go of his fear? Something drastic? Something wonderful? Something incredibly awkward?

Anyway, I meant for there to be tomfoolery in this chapter, but then I realized it was already pretty long, so expect nothing BUT tomfoolery next chapter, from a perspective other than Amy and Izzy. Also, expect the return of a certain annoying psychologist, along with one of his best friends, a certain in-your-face dancer. I know Tai will be one of the perspective characters, but I haven't decided on who else will be up to bat next time… We shall see. But! There will be a lot of fun drunken jokes next time, followed by something pretty romantically loaded, for more than one pair of characters, in the chapters to follow. Please look forward to some mature Sorato content to arrive within the Halloween arc (which is going to be pretty dang long).

Next update will be for Growing Up With You. After that, I'm slowly working on Insurgence. I don't know if Four Years or Insurgence will get the next next update. Hang tight, guys!

Still looking at houses. Thanks for the well wishes guys, you are sweeties!


	21. Halloween: Cashing In

**Author's Note: **In which Tai _finally_ properly settles his debt with Izzy. Okay, so, quick story, guys. I almost deleted the entirety of this small update (it's only about 2,700 words, which, for me, is like a micro chapter). Nothing really happens, other than that we get some interesting dialog between Izzy and Tai (which is something I'm extremely fond of) and some fretting from Joe (which I do personally find entertaining, because I have a weakness for Joe). As far as the plot goes, I could have totally deleted this. I am so, so sorry. But! I wanted to update Four Years, since it's been a while, and I realize that my Shenanigans chapter is going to be looooong. I hope this chapter isn't too disappointing in its "wait this isn't even necessary" ness…

One final announcement! I am working on my tumblr, which will be full of drawings meant to go along with my fanfics. You can find me under the username ahiddenpath. More details on my profile, I guess. Anyway, there will be drawings of Izzy and Amy coming along soon, and eventually the rest of your favorite characters, as well! Please have a look :)

Halloween: Cashing In

It was a bit more crowded than advertised, and it was hot and humid, but as the alcohol finally began to kick in a little, Tai began to feel that the first phase of the partying was shaping into a success. He was surrounded by a mass of bodies, many of them belonging to cute girls in skimpy costumes, and that was a damn good start. He glanced over at Matt and saw a slow, mellow smile, a sign of the beginning of intoxication for him. Sora wore a compelling, mysterious grin beside him, and her eyes were glued to Matt, now watching the fabric draping from his frame, now riveted to his face, now his lips. Tai tore his eyes away with a will, cursing mentally.

By some miracle, Mimi had convinced Joe to dance, or to at least sway slightly in front of her. Tai couldn't hear them, but he watched as she laughed and made a demanding hand motion. Joe sighed and drank deeply from his cup, then grimaced and coughed as if he had taken a shot instead of having a mixed drink.

Everyone seemed happy, except for Amy. Tai frowned as he watched her send Izzy another text. What was this, the third one? "Amy, he probably can't hear his phone going off in all of this," he pointed out, slipping the phone out of her hand. She reached for it, baring her teeth at him deliberately, and he responded in kind. It was a struggle not to smile, as he enjoyed watching her temper rise. It was a rare event that seemed reserved for him, and it pulled him mentally back into their childhood, when she had been far more strong willed and confident.

"You don't like the crowd, right?" he asked, taking hold of her shoulders. She leaned into the touch, moving towards him, and he hoped no one was watching. It was going to be difficult to attract any girls when Amy was acting clingy. "Right. So, stay here with Matt, and I'll find Izzy and bring him back." _And then you can mess up his chances of getting a girl tonight, instead of mine. _

As callous as the thought was, it was only half serious. If finding Izzy would make her happy, then he would do it. He had no idea why she followed the little nerd around like a puppy, her eagerness playing the role of a wagging tail. Tai enjoyed getting a rise out of Izzy, and he liked the way he spoke bluntly and sometimes displayed a barbed sense of humor. But half of the time, it sounded like he was speaking an alien language when he talked, and he was just so quiet in general... _I mean, I like him, but I don't see what the huge deal is. But whatever. If she wants Izzy, I'll find Izzy._

Tai made his way through the crowd, grinning whenever he met a fine feminine eye, loving the way that many of them sparked with approval as he passed. One girl went so far as to wink and lick her lips, and he turned his body so that he brushed her as he went by. His interest was certainly piqued, but Tai had no desire to pursue someone who was so obvious about what she wanted. He really wasn't looking for a drunken one night stand, although he indicated otherwise from time to time for the sake of his man cred. A single experience had been enough to warn him away from them. He failed to acknowledge the tiny voice in his mind explaining that he probably wouldn't have much luck finding anything else here.

At six feet tall, he was able to see over most of the crowd, but the lack of light was making things difficult. Squinting, he made his way into the largest room in the frat house, hoping that numbers would be on his side. He had the good fortune of spotting a head of violently red hair almost immediately, and he identified Izzy pushing his way through the crowd, looking surprisingly intent on his task.

Knowing he had no hope of being heard, Tai tried to intercept Izzy's path, making exaggerated waving motions the whole time. Before long, the movement caught Izzy's eye, and relief spread across his features, which seemed to be set tight in something like discomfort. Izzy made his way over to him, and immediately took hold of his arm when he reached him.

"Dude, I don't need this kind of publicity," Tai joked, shaking himself free. Then he noticed the expression on Izzy's face, and he did a double take. The little redhead looked pale and desperate, and Tai leaned towards him automatically, wondering what in the hell could upset the stoic, deadpan nerd so much. "S'wrong?"

"I need a favor, Tai, and I need you to not ask why." Izzy's eyes fell on his, hard and half wild. Tai felt his brow rise in response, and he had to admit that his interest was piqued. Izzy's hand tightened around his wrist to the point where it almost hurt. He nodded mutely, too stunned to speak.

"I gather that you're in charge of our Halloween activities." Izzy paused, as if waiting for a response, and Tai nodded again. That sounded about right. "I know we haven't been here that long, but I'm in rather desperate need of a relocation. Immediately."

For a moment, Tai's astonishment had him gaping at Izzy, jaw slack and hanging. Izzy's hold tightened further, and the discomfort finally brought him back to himself. "What the hell did you do? You start a fight or something?" That seemed unlikely, but he couldn't think of any other reason to need to disappear from a party.

"I really must emphasize my need of haste," Izzy said, his voice going so high that he sounded like a girl. Despite the strangeness and tenseness of the situation, Tai found himself laughing. Izzy frowned up at him, and his scowl just kept on growing as time passed.

Finally, Izzy brushed past him, and Tai jumped to keep up. Izzy turned his neck enough to speak over his shoulder as he moved. "If you really must know, I had something of a run in with my ex-girlfriend, and I have strong desire to prevent its escalation."

If it were physically possible, Tai's eyebrows probably would have flown right off of his face, potentially landing with a splash in someone's Dixie cup. His brain sputtered pathetically as he tried to process all of that information. "You've had a _girlfriend_?" he managed at last, and Izzy stopped moving long enough to grace him with the dirtiest, darkest look he had ever seen. His heavy brow was capable of expressing some pretty extreme disapproval, there.

"Are you going to say that you assumed I was homosexual next?" Izzy asked, and Tai felt his jaws snap shut in response. That was a thought that had definitely passed Tai's mind on more than one occasion, but had never lingered there, because he wasn't at all interested in who a boy wanted to get in bed with.

"Do you, ah, do you get that a lot?" The inquiry was made with honest curiosity, and less-than-desirable tact.

Izzy sighed. "I believe it has something to do with my quiet nature and my size, although, of course, neither of those things have any bearing on one's sexual preference." An uncomfortable sound popped out of Tai without his willing it, and, somehow, Izzy's eyes narrowed even further. "I was referring to my _height and build, _Tai."

"Right, right!" Tai said, laughing awkwardly. "Anyway, you don't have to be so touchy about it. It's not like you are, and even if you were, there's nothing wrong with-"

"I have absolutely no interest in which sex people choose to pursue," Izzy said, cutting him off. "But I _do _take issue with people assuming that they know my preferences without asking, and even more so with people being spiteful or judgmental about whatever conclusions they reach." He paused for a moment, then sighed, and some of the annoyance dripped off of his face. "Although, now that I consider it, I realize that it's unlikely for you to be intentionally hurtful."

_Was that forgiveness or an apology? _Tai wondered, but he honestly had no clue. What mattered was that Izzy was dropping this discussion, allowing Tai a chance to move beyond his slip. He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded towards the nearest corner of the room, then led Izzy there, so they could have a quick discussion. Frankly, leaving now would be inconvenient, as they had only arrived here about forty minutes ago, but if Izzy really needed it... His mind replayed the two times that he had been violent towards the boy following close to his heels, and he frowned at the ceiling. _I owe him. I know I do._

Once they reached the corner, which seemed to the only safe place to stop moving, he leaned against one wall and held his arm out to the other, blocking Izzy in and hiding him from view. He bent over to make himself heard, since Izzy was almost an entire foot shorter than him. It looked a little sketchy, he knew, but what could he do?

"So, what's your problem, now?" he asked, and Izzy dropped his forehead into his palm.

"I don't have anything more to say about it. Either we leave as a group now, or I'll go home on my own, but I refuse to stay here and risk some sort of altercation with my drunken ex." He dragged his hand down his face, rubbing his temples along the way, then leaned back into the wall. "I suppose it's your choice," he added, his eyes going unfocused. "For whatever reason, your most intimate group of friends seems to defer to you."

Tai began to drum his fingers against the wall. He wasn't really sure how he always ended up in charge, in everything from soccer to group outings, but it was true that the others were likely to take his lead, and probably without question. There was a time in middle school when Matt challenged his every call, sometimes leading to blows over the stupidest things, but that had worked itself out somehow over the years. And so, what was his call going to be?

"It's true that there isn't enough booze to keep the party going much longer," Tai said slowly, working through his thoughts verbally. "Too many people showing up without bringing something. If we leave now, no one can accuse us of bailing because the party dried up."

"Our absence would hardly be noticed, I can assure you," Izzy pointed out, staring pointedly into the thick, bouncing crowd. Tai nodded automatically.

"Yeah. Yeah. Now might actually be a good time to get out of here, anyway." With that, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted the others: _Got Izzy. Let's move on to the next party. This one's about to dry up on us. _

_There, _he thought proudly. _A good reason to get out of here, without anyone knowing that Izzy was the one who wanted it. _

And he was still congratulating himself on a job well done as his group slipped out of the party.

A Little Later

"So, where are we going, Tai?" Joe asked. He was sounding more than a little skeptical, he knew, but he couldn't seem to help it. Although he hadn't ingested much alcohol yet, he was already having trouble controlling his words and his tone. _And let's not even start with my feet. I have no idea what's going on down there, but walking is a lot harder than it normally is. It figures my alcohol tolerance is a joke. Izzy looks fine, and he's half my size!_

"I told you, we're going to a friend's apartment. It should be a lot less crowded, he's more picky about who gets drunk in his place, probably because the stuff is all his, I guess." Tai seemed to be having no trouble walking and speaking, but Joe noticed that he was grinning randomly, despite the lack of amusing stimuli. Well, if there were any, Joe didn't notice them; he was too busy shivering and trying to walk.

"So, why the bus?" he asked, rubbing his arms. He had no idea how Mimi could stand it. She was wearing a lot less than him, but she showed no signs of minding the cold. But, then, she was bouncing all around, dragging Amy down the sidewalk in a strange, high energy, meandering dance.

"Uh, because he lives too far to walk, and it's freaking freezing." Tai rose an eyebrow at him, but the disparaging look was completely ruined by his impossibly large smirk.

Joe blew air out from between his lips and hunched over, staring dolefully into the darkness beyond the reach of the streetlight by the bus stop. Who knew what could be lurking beyond its faint yellow glow? "I hope you're sober enough to know which bus we need, and which stop is ours," he said stiffly, trying to vent his discomfort somehow.

"Would you relax, Joe?" Matt asked, making a tsking sound. "Tai can sniff out booze like a blood hound. Halloween is about having fun. You're killing my buzz."

Joe stiffened and frowned, edging away from the blonde boy. He was used to getting this kind of attitude from people, and had been told repeatedly that no one enjoyed listening to his neuroticism. But being spoken to like that still bothered him.

Sora's face appeared as she removed her head from Matt's far shoulder. She was pressed up against him, taking shelter under his cape. "_Matt,_" she said softly, her tone gentle but firm. The visible part of Matt's face tightened, and he tilted his head in consideration.

"Sorry, Joe," he said at last, and, since he sounded sincere (and, amusingly enough, like someone who had just been taken down a peg), Joe nodded and tried to let go of his annoyance.

For a few minutes, everyone was quiet, except for Mimi, who was giggling and trying to convince Amy to sing somewhere on the grass behind them, and Amy, who kept trying to pry herself away from her friend.

"Mimi, your hands are so cold!" Amy complained, her voice rising into a high whine. Joe glanced over at Izzy and found him watching his pseudo girlfriend, his expression distant and unfocused. _I wonder what he's thinking, _Joe wondered. _He hasn't said a word since we left the party. _Truth be told, that wasn't very odd for Izzy, who spoke very little in general, particularly when in a group. Even his far-off attitude was normal. When something was on the redhead's mind, he focused on it so completely that his physical presence was about as significant as a lamp's. But even Izzy knew that there was a time and a place for everything, and he usually saved such moments of contemplation for a more private setting. Normally, his eyes would be alert and moving, scanning the environment for information.

Something was eating at his friend, and Joe had no idea what it was. Joe approached him, hoping to quietly ask him what was wrong, but the bus chose that exact moment to pull up to the curb. _Of course, _Joe thought, sighing as the doors opened. Drunken shouting and laughter immediately poured out, along with the moist heat that seemed to be following them everywhere tonight. Joe called for Mimi and Amy, then kept a surreptitious eye on Izzy, worrying all the while.

**Author's Note: **Again, I apologize. Pointless update is pointless. But, a few self comments. One, I love how, two chapters ago, Matt commented that he's better with the ladies than Tai, but Tai seems to think he's turning heads left and right. Which of them is right, I wonder? Second, Sora. I would totally be staring at Matt, too, so high fives and all. Third, I wonder why Tai had moments of wondering if Izzy is gay? In case you don't know (and I don't really see a reason why you would), I tend to write dialog in a sort of stream-of-consciousness mode. Sometimes I only write dialog, then come back and add the rest. The conversation with Izzy asking Tai to get everyone out of the first party was one of the ones where I just wrote without thinking, and somehow that line popped out… I thought it was odd, so I kept it (does that sound like the opposite of what I should do, lol?).

Anyway, much more excitement next time, I promise. Specifics: Amy challenges Izzy to a pickup line war. The kids play Kings. Izzy is NOT overjoyed to be reunited with Ryo Hiraki. Mimi discovers the compelling softness of Amy's chest, and Joe's head nearly explodes as a result. And something seems to be building between Sora and Matt…


	22. Halloween: Shenanigans

**Disclaimer: **Hana and Ryo are original characters created by Aveza, and used with her kind permission.

**Author's Note: **Just to be clear, when playing "never have I ever," one person mentions one thing they have not done. Everyone in the room who HAS done that thing is supposed to take a drink. So, if you drink, you're saying you have done it, and if you don't drink, you're claiming that you have not done it. All good? Good! PS: Those of you who are too young to know, drinking games are thinly veiled excuses to ask affrontingly personal sexual questions. I am not making this up. Proceed with caution when you are of age.

Later Still…

Truth be told, Mimi preferred the noise and the crowd of the last party, but there were good things about this one. For one, the apartment was large and furnished, although the furniture looked to be third hand or so. There was music, but it was a background sound, so she could actually talk to the people around her. And, while there was a bit of a backup in the kitchen, she could get something to drink without resorting to working her charms…. _Not, _she thought with a grin, _that I really have a problem with doing that._

She was delicately sipping a mixed drink and walking about the open living room, pretending not to notice the heads turning as she went. It was a nice place with cathedral ceilings and worn wooden floors. It was old, which the radiator in the corner attested to, but it had obviously been a high end apartment back in its day. Mimi smiled to herself as she imagined having a similar apartment of her own, or perhaps with Amy or another friend. Her college forced freshman to either live at home or on campus, but, as a sophomore, she'd have the option of commuting from her own place. Her mind placed cheerful, quirky decorations and high end furniture all around the place, and, by the time she made her second turn around the room, she felt oddly territorial.

Her interior designing was brought to an end when someone placed their hand on her shoulder. She turned slightly and smiled up at Joe, who smiled automatically in return, looking a bit bewildered. Then he shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, and her smile grew. She could tell when her boyfriend was feeling particularly in awe of her, and it did something strange and wonderful to her heart.

For a moment, his fingers trailed clumsily through her hair. Then, he cleared his throat and glanced up at the faded ceiling, apparently admiring the crown molding. "Ahh, someone is asking if we want to play Kings. Not that I know what that is, but I figured I'd ask if you're interest-" He broke off with a sputtering sound, and his eyes went wide. He was staring at something behind her, so Mimi turned for a look, but there was nothing unusual back there. Just kids drinking alcohol on a horrible seventies sectional.

"Joe?" she asked, tilting her head. He rubbed a hand over his face, and, when it fell away, he seemed to be fighting down laughter.

"Izzy's going to have a fit," he muttered, and Mimi frowned in confusion. She carefully followed his eyes to a redheaded boy standing behind the couch. He seemed to be dressed as a man from the regency period in England, which Mimi was only familiar with because of Amy's obsession with all things Jane Austin. The outfit was comparatively quiet and subdued, with its grave colors, but the boy looked classy and attractive in them.

"That's kind of hard to picture, but it sounds fun," Mimi whispered. Joe stared at her, and his lips twitched briefly upwards. "What, does he not like that guy?"

"You could… You could say that."

Mimi's thirst for gossip immediately kicked in, and she leaned into her boyfriend and lowered her voice. "Why? What's his name?" she demanded, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She had a hard time imagining Izzy making an enemy. That required talking to someone, after all.

Joe sighed and made an uncomfortable humming sound. "Umm... I think his name was Ryo." Mimi inched closer, squishing her body against him, smiling with delight as he began to color and stammer. But the other party guests, including their friends, were beginning to assemble around the sectional, probably for the game. The influx of people cut off their opportunity for private discussion, and Joe led her to the last open space on the couch with his shoulders limp with relief. He motioned for her to sit, and she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

"You sit," she said commandingly, and Joe shook his head.

"Mimi, I'm not sitting while my girlfriend is standing. You take the seat." Mimi felt her lips twisting into a wicked grin.

"I won't _be_ standing," she drawled, running her fingers playfully through her hair. She splayed her hands across his chest and pushed, and he clumsily backed into the seat, falling into it when the back of his legs encountered the cushion. Before he could regain his balance, Mimi hopped onto his lap and snuggled in, like a cat making a nest on its human. She allowed herself a soft purr as intimate parts of her brushed intimate parts of him, although the sensation was mostly dulled by layers of fabric.

Joe's entire body went tense beneath hers, and Mimi fought down a sigh. "Mimi," he hissed into her ear, "we don't know most of these people! It's rude to be so... demonstrative in front of them." His long face went entirely red, and Mimi could feel that his embarrassment ran deeper than he was verbally suggesting. She fought down the tiny frown tugging at her mouth. _What is it going to take to convince him to do more than hold my hand and give me a peck on the lips?_

"Relax," she cooed, running a hand down the side of his face. "There aren't enough seats. We're being polite by saving space, so it equals out." She gently pressed a fingertip to his nose, then leaned in closer, smiling enticingly. "You see?" Her arms crossed around his neck, steadying and anchoring herself, emphasizing the finality of this seating arrangement. Joe must have sensed that she wasn't about to move, because he made a sound that was half grumble and half groan, then fell silent.

Mimi watched as her friends approached the sectional and sat down on the floor. Her eyes followed Izzy, waiting for the moment when he noticed the boy that Joe pointed out earlier. It happened when Amy sat down next to him, and he turned towards her. His black eyes jumped from her to Ryo, who was seated a few feet behind Amy on the sectional. Izzy's eyes widened, and he flinched, then settled into a look of stony displeasure. Mimi could have sworn that Ryo noticed and gave a tiny, wry smile. Izzy slid his glance back to Amy, obviously trying to ignore the other redhead.

"What exactly is Kings?" Joe asked, and Mimi blinked and returned her attention to her boyfriend.

"It's a drinking game. Everyone takes turns drawing cards, and every card means something different. I swear everyone has their own rules, but basically someone ends up drinking with almost every card. The point is to make it through the deck as fast as possible, but people tend to have trouble remembering all of the rules when they're already drunk." Kings wasn't really one of her favorites. Mimi preferred a classic game of truth or dare, as gossip and pranks were more interesting to her than alcohol.

The host stood and explained his version of the rules, and Mimi huffed and tried to focus in. This was just too much to remember when she was trying to enjoy herself... Hopefully, no one would notice if she only loosely followed the rules.

The first few draws went typically enough, with all the boys drinking, all the girls drinking, and a long bout of categories, in which someone went with the horrifically large topic of "sports teams." Mimi threw it on purpose, just to get the game moving again. Things began to get interesting when Joe drew an eight.

"You have to pick someone to drink whenever you drink, or to drink twice if they were already supposed to drink," Tai explained from his spot a few feet away from them on the floor. Joe frowned and looked around the room, but Mimi smiled wickedly at Izzy. He noticed, and he paled. _Bless him. _There was absolutely no pity in her heart as she prepared to answer for her boyfriend.

"Izzy!" she shouted, throwing an arm up. Amy buried her mouth into her palms, clearly hoping to hide her amusement. Tai and Matt were less restrained about their laughter, and Izzy spared a moment to glare at each of them.

Izzy caught Joe's eye and scowled. "Very well. Salud," he said darkly, lifting his cup. Joe joined him in drinking, and then the game went on, with poor Izzy double drinking with delicious regularity. _Let's hope that functions as liquid courage for the rest of the evening…_

The game continued with an incredibly protracted round of Sora and Matt speaking to each other entirely in questions, a few people pouring their drinks into the massive mug of beer on the coffee table (much to Joe's disgust), and Amy slipping and smacking her head into the same table in her attempt to not be the last person to touch the floor. That was fairly normal for her, but what made it interesting was Izzy inching closer and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"You're becoming entirely too drunk," he said to her with a sigh. "Do you require assistance remaining steady?" Mimi swallowed a squeal of delight and poked Joe repeatedly, trying to get his attention. He grinned at her and nodded.

"Thassa matter of opinion," Amy muttered. "Do whatcha want." But she nuzzled into the touch before she even finished speaking. Mimi smiled, touched by their adorable affection, then focused her attention on Joe. It was time to follow Amy's lead and show some love. She inched towards him and dropped tiny kisses on Joe's cheek, relishing his slight hiss, and the way his hands closed around her waist. The details of the game and its participants slipped out of her notice as she continued to torment her boyfriend…

Awkward Perspective Shift Huzzah!

"Are you okay drinkin' alluh that, Izzy?" Amy asked, dropping her head onto his shoulder. Izzy sighed and shrugged.

He was definitely feeling the impact of all the alcohol in his system. So far, it seemed that he was retaining most of his faculties, but he knew he was growing less inhibited by the minute. "I'm alright, although I would prefer not to-"

"Melville!" Amy interrupted, giggling, and Izzy grinned. Yes, of course, she _would _know her literature. He stroked her hair absently, then focused in as he noticed how soft it was. It was something like touching the hair inside a corn husk, so silken that it created the physical illusion of seeming moist to the touch. He snapped into reality again when Tai began to heckle him to take a drink, as the game had continued in his mental absence.

Then he turned his eyes towards the girl beside Ryo, who was drawing the next card. She was dressed as a ballerina in white, with feathery ornaments clipped into her hair. The girl smiled and revealed a Jack.

"Never have I ever!" she cried, and she tossed the card into the air. It fluttered around and drifted about, eventually falling into Tai's hat, who was seated on the floor by her end of the couch. He laughed and brushed it out, adding it to the pile of drawn cards.

"Tiny dancer!" Amy blurted, and most of the eyes in the room flicked towards her. She blinked and took hold of Izzy's arm, and he patted her hand automatically. He had no idea what she was talking about, but Matt was laughing into his cupped palm, so perhaps he was in on the mystery. "Um, ah. I see you around at the PAC." Amy began to laugh, as if this were a hysterical happenstance, but somehow it came off as being funny instead of strange. _Mutual intoxication is a powerful social lubricant, it seems..._

The girl raised an eyebrow at Amy. "So you just go around calling me Tiny Dancer?" she asked, and Ryo was smiling at the both of them. _He's doubtlessly coming to some sort of conclusion about this conversation, _Izzy thought, fighting down a sigh. Although he did envy Ryo's ability a bit, he mostly found it annoying. _But does it really count as being presumptuous when he seems to be accurate? _Izzy furrowed his brow and tried to reason his way through the question.

Amy released him and held her palms out to the girl in a strangely pacifying gesture. "Well, you didn't seem to like me when we talked the one time, so I never got your name, and I keep seeing you around." Izzy took that to mean that Amy had a habit of naming people who stood out to her, and he spared a moment to wonder what she would have called him in her mind if they only knew each other by face. Probably something embarrassingly adorable, knowing her.

"That one time?" the girl asked, frowning in confusion.

"Yeah, yeah. I said you had pretty eyes, and you said-"

The girl nodded sharply, cutting her off. "Right, right, in the lobby at PAC."

"Perhaps an introduction is in order," Ryo said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "And then we can get on with the game. Hana, this is Amy, who is, I believe, a vocalist. Amy, this is Hana, who is, as you can probably deduce from her outfit, a dancer."

Amy nodded, never questioning how Ryo knew her name and interest in singing. Izzy tried to remember if he had overheard those details that day at the student union, or if he was somehow using his uncanny powers of observation and psychological voodoo to come to those conclusions.

"You're Odette from Swan Lake, right?" Amy asked.

Hana's incredibly green eyes seemed to come alive with sudden sparkle and animation. "Yes!" she cried, leaning towards Amy. "Do you like ballet?" Amy only managed a half nod before Hana continued speaking, starting what appeared to be an incredibly enthusiastic monologue on Swan Lake, but Ryo quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. She blinked over at him in response, and he grabbed his chance to speak.

"Yes, yes, Hana, Swan Lake is marvelous." There was a slow, dry drawl to his voice, lightened somewhat by traces of amusement. "But I believe you have a 'never have I ever' prompt to attend to." Izzy held back his sigh of relief. For the first time, he and Ryo were on the same wavelength.

"'Bout damn time," Tai muttered, and the corners of Izzy's mouth twitched upwards.

"This game has been a little slow, so I'll make it interesting!" Hana chirped. She paused and produced a drunken little hiccup, and Izzy frowned slightly as he noticed the faint look of concern on Ryo's face. "Never have I ever…" she paused and laughed. "Felt up a girl's chest!"

Izzy paled and glanced at Amy. This was far more information than he wanted to reveal at the moment, but most of the people in the room were laughing, so it was apparently an acceptable suggestion in this setting. He found himself roundly cursing party culture, as well as the fact that he was out tonight. If only he had asked Amy to keep him company back at the dorm…!

"Hana," Ryo muttered, shaking his head. "It's always this way with you. Don't you think that question is a bit inappropriate?" Izzy stared hopefully up at the two of them, very much wishing for a reprieve. He did _not _want Amy to know that he had been very familiar with a girl's chest in the past.

"We're playing a drinking game," she countered, her expression distinctly skeptical. "It's _supposed _to be inappropriate."

"Hear, hear!" Tai said, laughing. He downed a large portion of his drink, looking entirely unabashed, then stood and left the room, presumably to get a refill. Izzy was beginning to fret over what to do- lie, or drink- when he noticed someone stepping over him. He glanced up and saw Mimi, then averted his eyes, as she was not being as careful as she should have been about who had a view up her skirt. Izzy made another note of the incredible powers of alcohol.

Mimi sat behind Amy and scooted towards her, pressing her front against her friend's back. _What is she doing? _Izzy wondered, and he glanced over at Joe, who shrugged.

"I just realized," Mimi said, smiling coyly around the room, "I _haven't _done that." And, suddenly, Izzy knew exactly what was about to happen. A small voice in his brain suggested that he had better intervene, but he ended up sitting perfectly still and watching events unfold as they would. His eyes followed Mimi's dainty hands as they moved up Amy's waist and fastened to her chest.

Amy blinked and stared down at Mimi's fingers, her expression blank, probably with surprise. For a moment, Mimi's touch was gentle and unobtrusive, or, at least, as unobtrusive as possible. But then her lips parted, and her eyes went wide and bright with amazement. She began to enthusiastically squeeze and stroke Amy's breasts, and Izzy swallowed hard as he watched the pale, creamy flesh indent between Mimi's fingers. Amy began to color dramatically, and she was making a high-pitched sound that resembled a whine, but also... Also, a sound of pleasure. Her eyes went unfocused, then closed entirely. Izzy could feel heat working its way over his body.

"Joe," Mimi cried, her voice going high and bright with delight, "you have _got _to try this!" Her mouth worked silently for a few moments, and Izzy frowned and placed his body between Amy and as many of the other guests as possible, trying to cut off the view. Best friend or no, Joe was _not _going to touch Amy like that, not if he could prevent it. He glanced back at Joe and found that he was staring at the two of them, his mouth agape. His fingers were gripping his knees. Izzy scanned the rest of the room and found that most of the boys looked about the same, and some were hooting, cheering, or otherwise expressing approval. Even Matt was watching with interest, despite the fact that his girlfriend was right beside him, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Ryo seemed to be the only one remaining relatively placid, although he was grinning and shaking his head slightly. "They're, like…like…"

"Cloud soft," Amy provided, tipping her head back so that it rested on Mimi's shoulder. "Whisper soft. Yes, I know. Now, cut that out." It was difficult for Izzy to tell, with her face tilted away from him, but it seemed as if she were staring at the ceiling, no doubt wishing this weren't happening.

"No way!" Mimi's fingers dug possessively into Amy's skin and the fabric of her clingy little dress. "They're too amazing! Joe, get in here!" Izzy glared at Mimi and made a move towards her hands, trying to end this whole thing, despite his undeniable interest in the visual. But he realized that it looked like he was attempting to take up Mimi's offer, and he froze, unsure of what to do.

"Uh, I'll have to pass." Joe's voice was oddly squeaky, and he was wiping his forehead with his palm. "She's my lab partner. I don't mix business and… And whatever this is."

"What! You're crazy!" Mimi cried, her mouth opening with shock.

Joe squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, burying his face into his cupped hands. "I'm getting there…"

_Alright. This truly has gone on long enough. _"Mimi, you've had your fun," Izzy said, trying to remain calm. "I believe you've made your point. Kindly release Amy so the game can continue."

Mimi grinned and caught his eye. "What, before you've had a chance to try this?" she asked playfully, and he scowled full-out. Mimi tsked, shook her head, and let go of Amy, heading back to Joe.

It took a moment for Izzy to realize that, in all of the excitement, he hadn't taken a drink. _At least there's that, _he thought, quietly watching as Tai wandered back in and Ryo drew a card. He glanced at Amy and found that she looked flushed and a little twitchy, but seemed calm enough. He wanted to offer her some sign of support, but was worried that his touch may somehow be interpreted as inappropriate, after what had just happened. He sighed and half-heartedly went along with the game, which went along uneventfully for a few turns.

Eventually, a boy in a baseball uniform pulled another Jack, and Izzy sighed, trying to mentally prepare himself for another loaded question. But it turned out that there was no way to be ready for what the boy ended up asking.

"Okay, so this is totally a lie, but I want to see who answers what," he said, grinning drunkenly. "Ah… Never have I ever…_gotten laid_."

_Shit. Shit. Shit! _Izzy was so alarmed that basic swearing was all he could manage. He was dimly aware of Ryo trying to convince the stranger to change his question, but people were already taking drinks. Tai grinned wolfishly before drinking, and Mimi shrugged and took a drink, as well. Izzy's eyes twitched to the remaining members of their group, falling onto Sora, who made no move towards her cup, then to Matt, who was engaged in staring at Amy, and not in drinking.

_I don't understand. Why does he look so intense? Surely, Amy isn't going to drink. _Someone who had tried to flee from a hug and a kiss from her only romantic interest surely hadn't gotten much further than that with him, at least not when they broke up a few weeks later.

Amy was staring into her cup. She looked up, her eyes landing immediately on Matt's, and smiled, but it seemed more like a random muscular twitch than an actual expression of emotion. Her hand landed on her drink, and she began to lift it. Matt shook his head infinitesimally, his eyes wide and cringing beneath the weight of his brows, but she ignored him and took a long draught.

Shock and numbness swept over Izzy's body. Bits of information were colliding in his brain, trying to fit together, but something seemed to be blocking them from connecting through understanding. _The alcohol, _he realized. _I can't make sense of this until I'm sober, damn it all to hell and back. _Although it was the last thing he wanted to do, he drank some more. He could sense Amy's discomfort, and offering solidarity only seemed fair. Her eyes flicked to him, and she tilted her head, looking a bit taken aback. _It would seem we've surprised one another, _Izzy thought grimly.

Joe happened to be the next in line to draw a card, and he reached somewhat desperately for the deck, no doubt wanting to move off of this topic. Izzy wondered how Joe felt about learning that Mimi wasn't a virgin, or if he already knew. He wasn't happy about giving that bit of personal information away to Amy and the rest of the room, although it occurred to him that, since Amy was a fair person, her lack of virginity might make his easier for her to accept. Assuming, of course, that the topic ever came up between them.

His friend drew an Ace and shrugged. "That's a waterfall card," the host explained. "You take a drink, and then the next person has to start drinking, and they can't stop until you do. The drinking goes around the room like that." Sighing, Joe began to drink, and the person on his other side followed suit. It passed around the room, until the stranger on Amy's other side began to drink.

Izzy watched without really seeing, still fretting over what the last Jack had revealed. Eventually, he began to realize that the boy next to Amy was drinking for a suspiciously long time, and that Amy was turning a little red in the face from following his lead. "Amy!" he cried, grabbing her cup. "He's not even drinking anymore, he's just leading you on!" He pulled her hands down, paying no heed to the liquid that fell onto his cape, then grimaced when he saw that she had just downed almost an entire drink in one go. "Who… Who prepared this drink for you?" he asked desperately, hoping to hear that Matt had made it.

"Tai," she wheezed, her throat strained with the exertion of intaking so much alcohol. A frustrated, worried sound slipped out of Izzy. His temper, already frayed with recent events, slipped entirely, and his hands closed around Amy's wrists. _This is ridiculous, all of us encouraging each other to intake more alcohol than we can comfortably handle, to reveal things that had ought to be kept personal… I have to remove the both of us from this asinine game._

"Although it may be presumptuous of me, I'm cutting you off," he said firmly, placing her cup on the coffee table. "And we're stepping out of this game to get you some water." Amy turned her huge, dark eyes to him, blinking uncertainly. She turned towards Tai and Matt, and Matt was nodding encouragingly.

"That's a good idea," Tai said, his eyes fastening to his cousin "This is gettin' intense, and she was tipsy when she got here. Go drink some water with Izzy, Amy."

"Mmmkay," Amy agreed, and, when Izzy stood and tugged on her hands, she rose obediently with him. He led her to the kitchen, taking firm hold of her hand, since she was walking slowly and staring at her feet with great concentration. Once there, he backed her into a counter so that she could lean against it, then rummaged around in the fridge. Predictably, there was lots of beer, but thankfully some bottled water, as well. He really wasn't sure if guests had fridge rights, but was pissed enough to not care. He brought the bottle to Amy and opened it for her, then watched as she downed some of it. She was drawing swirling patterns against the tile floor with an arched foot.

"Out of curiosity," Izzy said slowly, "just how good is your alcohol tolerance?"

Amy lowered the bottle and made a far-off humming sound. "Ehhhh… Well, if I drink somethin' Tai made for himself, which probably has, like, four shots of strong stuff in it… I get all funny, but I'm okay the next day."

"I see," Izzy said, drawing his hand slowly around his chin. "And if you drink approximately that much at one party, then roughly the same at the next one…"

Amy stared at him for a long moment, then began to laugh uncontrollably, doubling over and spilling water on the floor. Izzy jumped in and grabbed the bottle, then steadied her with a hand, not trusting her to be able to remain upright as her body shook with mirth. Izzy waited, with growing worry and impatience, for her to stop laughing.

"I dunno!" she croaked at last, struggling to pull herself upright. "I. Do. Not. Knoooow!"

Izzy buried his face in his palm. "Prodigious," he muttered. He was seriously considering trying to convince her to go back home with him when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Izzy turned instinctively, then fought back a cringe when his eyes landed on Ryo. _Perfect. Just the thing to improve my mood._

"Is she alright?" he asked quietly. Izzy frowned slowly, unsure what to make of this encounter.

"I think she might be in for a rough night." He glanced back at Amy and watched her giggle at absolutely nothing. "Make that night, morning, and early afternoon," he amended with a sigh. Ryo stared at him blankly for a moment, then leaned in slightly.

"You don't seem to have taken my advice," he whispered, and Izzy frowned up at him. The last thing he needed was to have Ryo speak to him like a disappointed therapist. He stepped forward, forcing Ryo to step back and away from Amy, unintentionally showing something like dominance.

"Not that it's any of your business," Izzy began, his voice low and hard, "but I fully intend to ask her out, and to do it soon." He paused and colored, slightly shocked by how forthcoming he was being, and, once again, he mourned his intake of alcohol. But, begrudgingly, he recalled the precision of Ryo's past analyses. And, since he had already said as much as he had, what was the harm of asking advice?

His pride reared up, instantly offended at the thought of coming to Ryo for help, but the other boy was already fixing him with a concerned look that seemed to speak of a desire to be helpful. _Does he really care, or does he merely see me as some sort of practice patient? _Izzy had no way of knowing. He looked back at Amy, who was smiling serenely at the ceiling, and something twitched in his chest, growing hot and strained.

_Damn it, _he thought savagely, crossing his arms and staring at the floor. "I've been trying to think of a way to tell her since we left the last party," he admitted, never looking up from his feet. "But… The atmosphere is so strange tonight, it almost feels like an alternate reality. It's leaving me somewhat muddled and uncertain."

Ryo grinned and lifted his shoulders. "Halloween can have that effect on you," he said, and there was something infuriatingly knowing about his tone. "But I wouldn't worry about finding the perfect thing to say or do when you tell her. Believe me, her desire to hear that you're interested in her far outweighs her desire for pomp and circumstance. My advice would be to relax and say whatever comes naturally. Don't script it."

Izzy produced an uncomfortable, noncommittal grunt, and Ryo patted his shoulder and slipped out of the room, his exit every bit as subdued as his entrance. Izzy stared after him for a long moment, then went over to Amy and enjoyed a bit of peace and quiet standing beside her, steadying her with an arm around her waist.

A Bit Later

The game of Kings had ended with Tai drawing the last King card, then chugging the King's cup in one long, continuous shot, laughing and choking as he pulled the container away from his flushed face. Currently, everyone was mingling in little groups around the living room. Mimi glanced at her friends, watching Matt and Tai have a friendly argument about how much alcohol the soccer player had ingested so far. According to Tai, he had drank enough to kill a particularly fat elephant. Matt seemed to think that he was a little over-impressed with himself.

Izzy and Amy had joined them a little while ago, and they were standing slightly apart from the rest of the group, chatting about mass effects, whatever those were. Then, Amy broke away from Izzy and stumbled towards the rest of them, and Izzy followed, taking hold of one of her arms. Amy turned at his touch, then leaned into Izzy, probably closer than she meant to, forgetting some of her usual shyness under the influence of alcohol. "Saaaaaay. I was just thinkin'. You're a nerd, like me. Do you know any sciency pick-up lines? I looooove those!"

Izzy blinked, but did not step away from Amy, despite her invasion of his personal space. Mimi silently cheered as Amy drew in even closer, pressing a pale hand against the redhead's shoulder. "I suppose I know a few," he offered, turning his dark eyes to her face, "but they're all rather cheesy, I'm afraid."

"Dude, all pickup lines are cheesy!" Tai said, laughing. He handed Amy a cup. "Now, Amy. Drink this slowly. 'M serious." Izzy frowned darkly at Tai, and the taller boy shrugged. "Don't give me that. Matt mixed it. It's hardly got any alcohol in it." Mimi took that to mean that it didn't have any alcohol at all, and that this was an attempt to get something nontoxic into Amy, but, by the look of Izzy's scowl, he wasn't picking up on that. _He must be smashed, if I'm noticing things that he isn't. But I guess he did have to drink a lot during that game of Kings!_

Amy stared at the Dixie cup for a long moment, then smiled, took it, and held it between herself and Izzy. "Let's make a bet!" she said, tipping the cup. Izzy's hands hastily closed around hers in a frantic attempt to prevent the liquid from spilling. Mimi's eyes fastened on their connected flesh, on the reluctance with which Izzy released her.

"What exactly are you proposing?" he asked, raising a heavy red eyebrow. Mimi inched closer, dying to know what her helplessly drunk friend was about to propose, madly hoping that it was romantically charged.

"I wanna do a pickup line battle! Whoever has the best one wins, and the loser has to chug this allll down!" She shook the cup again, and Izzy grabbed it a second time, then wrestled it out her grasp, most likely to prevent future panic.

Matt laughed, long and low, and, despite her lack of active interest in him, Mimi felt her pulse quicken. Matt just oozed sexiness, especially in that costume, with his hair lightly tousled and his glance warm with drunken amusement. She allowed herself about fifteen seconds of glorying in the feelings that his appearance, voice, and charm stirred up in her, like a dredge scooping up succulent oysters from the bottom of a bay, before snuffing them out and reminding herself that she was happily dating a total cutie. _A total cutie who won't take a hint and ravage me, _she added in afterthought. A tiny frown pulled at her lips, and she fought to straighten it out.

"This is going to be amazing. Does anyone have a camcorder?" Matt asked, flicking a bit of his cape into place behind him. Mimi slipped up to Izzy and smiled deliberately at him. He had the sense to look a little uncomfortable.

"You know she just wants an excuse to make you hit on her, right?" she said, using a whispering tone that everyone could still clearly hear. Izzy colored and swallowed hard, then admirably rearranged his face back into that distant, polite mask that he wore so often and so well.

"I just wanna see if he knows ones that I don't, is all," Amy chirped. Interestingly enough, she didn't look embarrassed, and Mimi hoped that was a good sign. Perhaps she was warming up to the idea of being the object of Izzy's attention, and didn't find the suggestion unusual or upsetting.

Izzy's glance moved from the alcohol, to the crowd of friends assembled around him, and then to Amy, where they lingered. His expression was impossible to read, at least for Mimi. Finally, he sighed and nodded. "I don't think either of us would particularly benefit from ingesting more alcohol. Especially you. But… If it would entertain you…" He shrugged in a way that suggested that he wasn't much interested in the whole business. _Liar, _Mimi thought, shaking her head. "Would you care to open?"

Amy smiled brightly, and her pleasure seemed contagious. Everyone except Izzy smiled automatically. "Yeah!" she said, swaying on the balls of her feet. "I'll start soft, and work my way up." She made a fist and pressed it to her chin and lower lip, mimicking one of Izzy's typical gestures. After a pause, she offered up her first one.

"You must be a carbon sample, because I have a strong urge to date you!" Amy dissolved into girlish little giggles, pressing her breasts together and up as her arms wrapped around her body. Izzy's eyes were not the only ones that snapped into focus on them. Mimi's were right there with his. She was convinced now that those boobs were made up of unicorn dust and magic and rainbows. If Mimi weren't totally confident and happy with her body, she would have been jealous.

"That was adorable," Sora whispered, sounding almost awed by the pure, saccharine sweetness rolling off of her roommate.

"Cute," Matt agreed, tipping his head to Sora, "but certainly no game-winner." He paused and pulled his girlfriend into him, molding the sides of their bodies together. For a moment, their eyes locked, and a look of restrained, desperate heat passed between them. Mimi watched with interest and no small amount of envy, wishing that Joe had the confidence and disposition to show so much desire for her. Then, Matt tore his glance away from Sora and focused on the redhead, clearing his throat before he spoke. "Izzy, your rebuttal?"

Tai snorted helplessly into his cup. "Are we gonna judge this?" he asked, wiping the stray liquid from the edges of his mouth. "Because that's _hilarious._" He smirked and settled his eyes on Izzy, giving him a look that made it clear that he would brutally favor his cousin.

Miraculously, Izzy ignored everyone and kept his eyes riveted on Amy. Mimi smiled, pleased by his ability to focus on her. That was important, especially for someone who had a way of sometimes ignoring the people around him. "You must be the square root of two," he said, holding her glance with his. He paused for a moment, then smiled a little ruefully. "…because I feel completely irrational around you."

Mimi squealed with delight, and her hands closed around Joe's nearest wrist. "He totally meant that!" she cried. Izzy finally broke away from Amy long enough to give her an annoyed look, but it only served to make her squee again, because his cheeks were coloring before her eyes.

"Ugh, enough with the cutesy stuff," Tai complained. His upper lip curled back with impatience. "These are _pickup lines_, guys. They're supposed to be ridiculous, not some weird form of nerd charm."

"Fiiiiine," Amy sang, drawing the word out with a musical lilt. She drew herself up, clearly trying to project confidence, but Mimi frowned as she began to wilt and draw in on herself. She tried to start once or twice, but fumbled. Her eyes stayed firmly on Izzy's shoes as her next pickup line spilled from her mouth in a quick, almost indecipherable tumble. "You're a start codon. You turn me on."

Mimi had no idea what a start codon was, but she knew sexual innuendo when she heard it, and her hands instantly went to Amy's shoulders. She patted them affectionately, trying to support her. Her eyes flicked around the group, and she saw Joe grinning (he probably understood the whole thing), Matt leaning in with interest, Tai looking confused and just a touch uncomfortable, and Sora pressing a hand to her face, most likely to hide a smile. Finally, Mimi turned her glance to Izzy, and her heart constricted in her chest. For just a moment, the little nerd's eyes darkened with desire. But it wasn't overtly sexual… It was more like watching a starving man stare up at an apple hanging from a branch just beyond his reach, some unsettling mixture of raw need twinged with despair. And, for the first time since she pieced together that Izzy liked Amy, Mimi realized that there was more holding Izzy back from confessing than simple shyness and introversion.

And, just like that, Mimi was more determined than ever to get them together. But, for now, all she could do was watch this interesting little verbal game.

Izzy cleared his throat uncomfortably and made his next move, somehow looking Amy in the face when he did. "You completely overload my processor."

Mimi and Sora responded with identical coos of touched admiration, while Tai and Matt groaned and tsked, respectively. Joe buried his face in his open palm.

"That round goes to Amy," Tai said, shaking his head. "Overload my processor… _Seriously_. That was just too stupidly mushy."

"Agreed." Matt lifted an eyebrow crossed his arms. "Step up your game, Izzy."

"I liked it," Amy commented, smiling. "But uhhhh, guess I gotta do another one. You've prob'ly heard this one, I guess it's like… Old, but good!" She giggled into her palm, and Mimi had no idea what was so funny, and wrote it off as intoxication. Either way, apparently this pickup line was well known enough that Amy had no problems delivering it with a straight face, as if the familiarity made it safer. "I'm DNA helicase. Let me unzip your _genes_."

Izzy nodded automatically. "I thought that's what you were going to say."

"Even I've heard that one," Tai commented, "but I have no idea what it means." Joe brightened and cleared his throat, but he was only allowed to say the words 'enzymes' and 'DNA replication' before Tai crankily told him to stuff it. Mimi narrowed her eyes at him, but didn't say anything, as she was eager to hear Izzy's next one.

The redhead was staring into the cup of alcohol and making a faint hedging sound. "While I do know more, they're much less… appropriate than the ones I've used thus far." His expression grew faintly beseeching, but no one seemed to heed it.

"About time," Tai said, grinning and leaning in. "Let's hear it!"

"I don't… Amy. I don't want to offend your sensibilities." He shifted uncomfortably, and his eyes moved quickly about, taking in all of the people who were listening to this exchange of increasingly intimate suggestions. Mimi smiled encouragingly at him, hoping that he would end up saying something that somehow communicated his desire to Amy, and that she would actually take it at face value.

Amy smiled easily and shrugged. "It's just a game, and I started it. Noooo worries!" Izzy stared at her for a long moment, then sighed and moved his gaze to the ceiling.

"Can you help me calculate the spring potential of my mattress?" he muttered, and his face went from flushed to full-out red. Amy's eyes popped open, and she doubled over and trembled with laughter, drawing Izzy's glance right back to her. He grimaced and scratched behind his ear, looking like he would very much prefer to be somewhere else at the moment.

The moment Amy recovered, she blurted something else out. It took Mimi a moment to understand it, but, when she did, she grabbed Joe's arm and collapsed against him, shaking with all-out glee. "I won't block your pop-ups."

Matt and Tai broke down in laughter, and Izzy frowned at the lot of them. Then, he sighed and took a deep drink from the cup, and Mimi deflated a bit. "You giving up?" she asked. Izzy turned to her, scowling impressively.

"No. I just need more alcohol in me before I can say this." Mimi's mouth twisted into an automatic grin as he drank some more. Whatever he was going to say, she hoped that it would be good, good enough to linger in Amy's memory and make her think about it again, even when she was sober…

Izzy emptied about half of the cup, then took a step closer to Amy. "I wish I were your abstract algebra homework," he began quietly, looking her in the eye. He opened his mouth to continue, but he coughed, then stared at his feet, as if the rest were addressed specifically to them. "Then, I'd be incredibly hard, and… and you'd be doing me on your desk."

There was a slight pause, and then Amy made an indistinct whining sound. Everyone stared at Izzy in varying shades of shock and awe. "I… I feel like I should punch you," Tai muttered, crossing his arms.

When Mimi finally came back to herself, her tiny hands formed tight fists, and her foot stamped the ground with frustration. God, the look on Amy's cute little face..! Her full, plump lower lip had dropped open just a tab, as if it were just _begging_ for Izzy to take a nibble, and he just stood there, looking embarrassed and grim, shifting his weight from foot to foot, trying to avoid everyone's eyes. "Oh. My. GAWD," she cried, flailing her hands, "will you two just _suck face_ already?!" Incensed beyond the ability to behave rationally, she took hold of Izzy's shoulders and shoved him towards Amy, and his attention immediately went to the drink, which was threatening to slosh over. He didn't notice his impending impact until it was too late, and he crashed into Amy. His hand closed around one of her upper arms to keep the both of them upright. Their bodies were pressed flush together, but all they did was gaze shyly at one another, and Mimi felt a scream of pure vexation bubbling up her throat.

Then, Joe's hands were on her shoulders, and his voice was a soft thrum in her ear. "Calm down, Mimi," he whispered. And, somehow, the slight touch of his lips on her ear, the feeling of his breath against her skin… Mimi turned to her boyfriend, feeling oddly overwhelmed. A quiet voice in her mind asked her why she was so concerned with Amy and Izzy when her own relationship was moving so infuriatingly slowly. _Of course I want Amy to be happy, and that's why I care. But… Could it also be that I'm trying to distract myself from what I'm not getting out of my own relationship?_

Mimi glanced between Joe and Amy and Izzy, unable to decide where to devote her attention. Then, Amy sighed and eased the cup away from Izzy. Her free hand went absently to his hip, and she swayed slightly in time with the background music. "I can't beat that, Izzy. You win." She tipped her head back and drank, and Mimi watched as Izzy's eyes moved to her throat. A droplet of liquid was slipping down Amy's skin, and Izzy intercepted it with a finger, rubbing it off when it pooled at the base of her neck.

_They're fine for now, _Mimi thought, feeling no small amount of pride. Then she squared her shoulders, took hold of Joe's hand, and pulled.

"Wha- Mimi- What are you doing?" he asked, stooping down towards her.

"We're finding a quiet corner and making out," she snapped back at him. He produced a sputtering sound, and his long legs seemed to tangle beneath him. For a moment, he said nothing and stared at his feet, probably expending all of his attention on staying upright.

Once he had that straightened out, his grip tightened on her hand. He followed her obediently, and Mimi grinned ecstatically, fiercely looking forward to the next few minutes. _I'll teach you how to treat your ride, _she though saucily, running her tongue along her lips.

**Author's note: **But then she had to wait until the next chapter, because the author got tired of writing.

Haha, so much OOCness in this chapter, but I'm writing that off as 'incredible mass intoxication.' And if you're wondering why Mimi has been treading carefully in her relationship with Joe, given her reputation of taking what she wants, we will be learning more about that next chapter.

I have to say, though, I really don't like this chapter as much as I thought I would. Actually… I'm worried you all will feel disappointed. I just couldn't juggle so many people and so many things going on, and my quality of writing definitely dropped off. And was it even funny? I ended up inserting hints at some of the plot's darker points, which I think might have killed the mood. Not to mention that Izzy is a total buzzkill, what with his disapproval of all of the drunken fun. At one point, the entire chapter was actually narrated by Mimi, but I couldn't get it to work, and I switched to Izzy, but then I couldn't be bothered to work in a proper perspective shift, so I was like, ehhhhhh who cares, just make it funny. I gave up on it, guys, and I am sorry. What I am trying to say here is that there are problems with this chapter, it's a mess, and I acknowledge it, and am open to suggestions for improving it.

Next chapter will have so much romance and feels in it, though, you all will love it. I've already written a lot of it, so I am confident in saying this. Also, just a few remaining shenanigans. Uh, please look forward to Mimi and Joe finding their quiet corner, Sora and Matt getting each other worked up, Amy and Matt strutting their stuff at the bar's karaoke stage, and Izzy throwing his restraint entirely to the wind. Oh, and, you know, I guess Tai will be there. (Poor Tai… Thrown into the corner as all the couple stuff happens…)

That's all for now! Please remember to visit my tumblr over the next few days, I will be posting a drawing of Amy and Izzy walking around campus before too long.


	23. Halloween: Music of the Night

**Author's Note: **Get comfy, my darlings, and pull up your beverage and mood music of choice, because we are about to get some romance up in here! No M content this chapter, but get all prepared for some of that goodness next time. I'll be easing you into it today ;) I am so excited! You're going to love it!

Halloween: Music of the Night

Mimi dragged Joe out of the living room and down a hallway, completely heedless of the heads turning as she passed. Joe grew twitchier and twitchier with each step, like a dog being led into a vet's office, but she ignored his signs of distress. She opened a few doors, not caring about party etiquette, which signaled that those rooms were meant to be off-limits to guests. Joe protested as she pulled him into a bedroom, but she brushed his complaints off and closed the door behind them. The sound of the lock sliding into place seemed almost musical.

"Joe." Mimi backed him into the door, placing her hands on the wooden surface, cutting off all possible escape routes. She wiped a palm down the side of the wall until she flipped a light switch, but didn't bother taking note of the room's features. Joe was the focus, here. His glasses slid down his nose as he tried to press himself back and away from her.

"M-Mimi," he stammered. His eyes flickered this way and that, as though in search of an exit, before finally settling on her face. "It… It's rude to enter someone's personal space without their permission. We should go back out there before the host complains. We don't want to get Tai in trouble with one of his friends."

She sighed and rolled her eyes impatiently. Joe was always so high strung about everything… Couldn't he just sit back and _relax_ sometimes? "We're not going to do anything. We're not even going to _touch_ anything. I just need to tell you something." _With my mouth. My lips. My tongue… _She couldn't hold back the sly grin that followed.

Joe nodded slightly, but he looked a bit suspicious. "Fine. What is this about, then?" He cleared his throat, and, when next he spoke, his voice was high and tight. "I, uh, seem to recall you saying something about, ah… making out."

"Mm-hmm." Mimi ran the back of her hand down his cheek, and she pulled back slightly when she felt his body temperature. His skin burning, as though with fever. She sighed, drew back, and lightly passed her palm over her forehead. Although Mimi found Joe's shyness and humility charming, she had no idea what to do with a boy who fell into a panic when she touched him. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to kiss him until sparks danced through her veins, heating and igniting every part of her, giving way to even more enticing activities. But he didn't seem ready for that sort of thing, placing her right smack in the middle of entirely uncharted territory.

His fingers closed over her wrist, pulling back her hand, exposing her face. Concern and panic were pulling his skin taut over his muscles. "What's wrong?" he demanded, and his free hand made its way around her waist, drawing her back into him. Without thinking, she nuzzled her face into his chest and glued her body to his, responding to his touch with more eagerness than she cared to admit.

And, suddenly, she was afraid and uncertain, and she _hated _those foreign emotions. Telling Joe what had been on her mind for a while now would put her in an unprecedented state of vulnerability, but keeping quiet just wasn't her style, and she had to get the words out before she popped. In truth, she had no idea how to start, had no plan for this conversation, so she just started talking.

"This isn't normally how I do things," she began. Joe blinked down at her, then ran his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture. He didn't say anything, but his slight nod was an indication that he wanted her to continue. "If I want to kiss a boy, I kiss him. If I want to-" Her mouth snapped shut. No, referring to her desires to rip off clothes and smush together certain body parts was a little much for this conversation. No need to explode the poor boy's head, at least not when she wanted to have an important talk. Plenty of time for that later, unless… _No, _she told herself violently, shaking her head. _There absolutely will be time for that later. I won't let myself think otherwise._

She sighed and moved her hands back to his face, allowing her fingertips to wander over his heated flesh, letting the tactile input distract her from the troubling sense of doubt stirring up inside of her. "If I want something, I take it. It never really mattered to me what other people thought. I'm confident in who I am. I like who I am. If someone doesn't like me, then fine. I don't need them. I'm not interested in them."

"So if you want a kiss… You take a kiss," Joe translated. His chest began to rise and fall more rapidly, and his breathing became jerky and shallow. The fabric draped across her back wrinkled as his fingers tensed. "But… You haven't done that with me."

"No," Mimi said softly. She shut her eyes, unable to watch as his expression crumpled in on itself like an umbrella breaking in a storm. "In the past, people have been offended by how I act. People have called me selfish and pushy. Like I said, I never let it bother me. I'd rather be me than be liked by everyone. But…" Her hand moved to the back of her neck, and she cursed mentally, unable to cope with her nerves and anxiousness. _Gawd, this sucks. I can't understand how neurotic people deal with this._

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and she found that Joe was staring down at her with an expression that a man might make as he approached the guillotine. Suddenly, Mimi realized how her speech might sound to someone who didn't know what she was trying to get at, and her arms wound around his body, pulling him in. "Joe! I'm not- Don't be upset! What I'm trying to say is, I don't want to be forceful with you. I'm worried that, if I try to kiss you the way I want to, you'll freak out, and you'll like me less. You're not someone I can risk offending. It's a totally new thing for me, trying to tone it down and keep the other person's feelings in mind. I've never been too worried about boys coming and going before, but, with you-" Her mouth snapped shut as she realized just how much she was saying here, and she broke off with an aggravated little growl. She backed away slightly, crossed her arms, and huffed, trying to backtrack, to make her speech seem less personal and pressing. "Look. I just… I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Joe stared at her for a long moment, his expression clearing up by degrees. "You're saying that you've been uncharacteristically holding yourself back out of respect for my disposition." His eyes scanned her face, as if to search for physical evidence that he was understanding things properly. A tiny grin spread across Mimi's face. _What, does he think my face is like a textbook, with words and instructions popping up when he needs them? _

"I mean, basically, yeah," Mimi agreed, holding her hands out. "But, at the same time…" She took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself to say the most dangerous thing yet, the thing that might be a deal-breaker for a boy she was far too fond of for her comfort. "I can't keep doing this, Joe. This isn't who I am. I _am _selfish and pushy. I mean, I'm not trying to knock myself, there are lots of great things about me, too, but I do know about the bad stuff. And, you need to know about it, too. And… You need to decide if you can deal with it."

Joe's enormous hands landed on her shoulders, warming them, surrounding them. "And if there's anyone that you should be entirely comfortable being yourself around, it's me." His tone was strangely bland, as if he were stating a scientific fact. But, even so, she relaxed into his touch, grateful for his understanding.

"Yeah. So… What do you think?" She couldn't look him in the eye, and she was berating herself shrilly in her mind for her weakness.

He sighed mournfully, and, for a second, Mimi's heart seemed to plummet from her chest to her stomach, or perhaps to fall right through her entirely, she wasn't really sure which. "I think I'm going to need an inhaler. Maybe something for high blood pressure."

Mimi pulled back and tilted her head, her brow crinkling with confusion. "What? I don't get it, Joe, what are you trying to-"

He chuckled, but the sound announced tension and discomfort more than amusement. Then, his palms enclosed her shoulder blades, and he leaned down towards her, pausing just before their lips touched. He tilted his face a little, then tilted it back, and Mimi realized that he was either struggling for that last bit of courage or for a suitable angle.

"Joe…" She wasn't really aware of saying his name, or of her hands cupping his face, drawing him in the rest of the way. All she knew was that her lips were on his, lightly at first, the way they always kissed. Then she eased his mouth open with her tongue, fighting down a chuckle as he froze. She eased him into it, patiently showing him how this was done, and soon, he was following her example with surprising accuracy and heat.

Before long, she hardly knew who was following whom. And, a little later, for all intents and purposes, she knew nothing at all.

A Little Later

The bus had arrived outside of the bar, and Sora filed off of it with her friends, her eyes following the flowing motion of Matt's cape. She had spoken very little tonight. Normally, she spoke slightly less than the average person, but this level of quiet was abnormal for her. She only hoped her friends weren't assuming that she was unhappy.

That would be a far cry from the truth.

Every sip of alcohol was smoothing away the casings around her sense of decorum, like a hand pulling back a curtain. Or, more pertinently, like a lover slowly stripping away layers of clothing... Sora colored, shook her head, and bit her lip. Thoughts like those were exactly the reason why she was having trouble focusing on what was going on around her.

Matt stepped down from the bus in front of her, then turned and offered up his hand. She paused for a moment, causing Amy to step into her backside, muttering an anxious apology. The jarring motion of body against body hardly registered in her mind. Sora was far too busy admiring the visual of Matt, surrounded by darkness, reaching for her. What little light was available clung to the white parts of his costume, the half mask and the draping shirt. The mask, with its heavy brow, added a certain grimness to his expression that was not normally present.

His smile transformed into a smirk, and Sora knew he was aware of what he was doing to her. Normally that arrogance grounded her, helped her control the urges currently surfacing, but tonight... Tonight it was another temptation, another step down a road shrouded with darkness and mystery. Her hand trembled when it fell into his.

"Steady, there," he murmured as he pulled her into him. A low chuckle, breathed directly into her ear, followed. Sora was torn between wanting to scream with frustration at being teased and wanting to let this surge of raw emotion propel her further towards the point of no return. Either way, she had a choice to make: let him sweep her away, or stand firmly on her own two feet, despite the force of foreign emotions and sensations pushing in from all directions.

Sora took hold of his hand, but slipped out of his embrace. Dimly, an old adage slipped through her mind: _That which does not bend must surely break. _

She ignored that bit of wisdom and kept walking. Slowly, her attention turned towards the environment, to the kids pouring out of the bus and into the bar. Once again, the combination of music and shouting was overwhelming, and Sora turned automatically towards Amy, wondering if she could have those ear plugs back. Sora laughed when she saw that Amy was already trying and failing to put in a pair. Izzy sighed and made a 'come here' motion, and she bent towards him, laughing as her head bumped into his. He brushed her hair back and deftly inserted the foamy material into her outer ear canals. His fingertips brushed her cheeks as he pulled away and removed a new pair for himself from the bag.

The redhead looked up, no doubt planning to offer the bag around, and stepped towards her when their eyes met. Sora tugged on Matt's hand, bringing him to a stop, and waited for Izzy to approach. They each took their own pair, then put them in as they made their way to the open doors of the bar.

Amy brushed past her and poked her head into the bar, bending over and grabbing the door frame. "Staaaaaaaaars!" she cried, straightening and facing the group. "It's a veritable bacchanalia in there!"

Matt furrowed his brow and caught Sora's eye. _Do you have any idea what she's talking about? _his expression asked. Sora shook her head slightly, as she had no clue. That was often the case with Amy and her exclamations, however, so she failed to react.

Amy began to laugh, pressing her back against the outer wall of the club, squishing the wings that she had tried so hard to take care of all night. "And I'm a maenad! Pray, where is my thyrsus?"

"Is that even English?" Tai asked, cocking an eyebrow at his cousin. Again, Sora shook her head. Those were definitely words that she had never heard before.

Izzy had a hand pressed to his mouth, and Sora smiled when she realized that he was grinning. It was nice to know that he was amused. He had been tense, terse, and strained lately, and, although Sora didn't know the details, she could guess that it had to do with Amy. "It's a sampling of Greek words, I believe, Tai."

Tai rolled his eyes. "Of _course_ it's fucking Greek." He approached his cousin, took hold of her shoulders, and spun her so that her body was against his and tucked securely under his arm. "Amy. No school shit allowed. Let's get in there and have some fun."

"Mythology _is _fun," she pouted, but she allowed herself to be led inside, and Sora and Matt followed.

There was a bouncer a few feet beyond the threshold, but he let them pass with hardly a glance. "Aren't they going to card us?" Sora asked as the group moved further into the bar.

"Nah." Matt shrugged and readjusted his hold on her hand. "I think they give it up as a lost cause on Halloween."

"Bowing to the inevitable, it would seem," Izzy agreed, glancing back at them over his shoulder. Sora nodded, quietly noting that the redhead was being a bit chattier than usual, then took in the interior of the club. It was dim, save for the flickering images from the TVs spread around the bar, bathing the room with ghostly, indistinct lighting. There was yet another crowd of drunken kids, but this one seemed more energetic than the one in the frat house, and more…romantically demonstrative. _I guess they've had more time to get drunk. I hope they all have safe ways to get home tonight... _

It was one massive, open space, and Sora wondered if tables had been removed for the night. Although the darkness made it difficult to tell, it seemed to be kind of a dive, with plain concrete floors and patchy, worn walls. Her eyes jumped to an elevated platform at the far end of the room, and she leaned into Matt automatically. "Is that a stage?" she asked, pointing over Izzy's head.

"Looks like it." Matt frowned thoughtfully and ran his fingers through his hair, which was beginning to lose some of its styling after the events of the night. "Uh, actually, I do think Tai mentioned something about karaoke? I could ask him, but- Goddamn, he's already at the bar."

"He's going to drink _more_?" Sora could feel her eyebrows pulling her skin upwards. She was surprised and oddly impressed by the fact that Tai was still standing, after all of the alcohol he had already swallowed.

Matt snorted, and the exiting puff of air pushed up the hair that had fallen into his face. "You would not _believe _how much he can down. It's ridiculous. Actually, he complains about it, since getting properly drunk can get expensive for him."

"Properly drunk?" Sora echoed, grinning up at him. "As opposed to improperly drunk?" All she could think of was Tai wearing the costume Ryo had worn at the last party, downing Scotch from a teacup and slurring as he read poetry out loud. She described the image to Matt, relishing the way his eyes warmed with amusement, moving from ice blue to ocean blue.

"What's he doing now?" The further they moved into the crowd, the less she was able to see. "And where did Mimi and Joe go?" Her head tipped this way and that, but she couldn't spot anyone but Izzy, who had somehow ended up right in front of her, cut off from Tai and Amy.

Matt moved his arm to her shoulders, steadying himself, then stood on his toes for a better look. He sighed heavily, and Sora's forehead wrinkled up with concern. "He's ordering multiple drinks, and not noticing that Amy is stealing the first one. And having a damn good time of it, too." His face lightened with a grin. "He's going to be pissed. As for Mimi and Joe..." he paused and glanced around. "Okay. Wow. They're, uh, making out over there."

Sora laughed so suddenly that spittle flew out of her mouth, and she grimaced when Izzy turned and raised an eyebrow at her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, Izzy. That was fast..."

Matt shrugged and grinned. "Yeah, well, Mimi... You know how it goes with Mimi."

"True, but... I'm a little surprised that Joe is going along with it."

"Why?" Matt asked, eyes widening with genuine confusion. "Who wouldn't want-" He cut himself off abruptly, his face going slightly white. "I mean, uh- Damn it- Yeah, Joe is kind of uptight, but Mimi probably would only put up with that for so long, right?" His voice lost its normal easy, low, velvety tone.

_There it is, _Sora thought, nodding to herself. Matt actually didn't behave too differently than normal when he was drunk, it seemed, except that he laughed and smiled more easily and lost some of his normal smoothness and tact. She had seen it at the last party, where he showed obvious interest in watching Mimi torment Amy, and was seeing it again now.

She patted his arm reassuringly. "Matt. It's okay." As far as she was concerned, it was ridiculous to expect someone to never be attracted to another person the moment they entered a romantic relationship. What mattered was limiting that attraction to admiration and imagination… And, ideally, turning that into fuel for spicy interactions with a significant other. _Stop that! Stop that! You're still in public! _

Matt stared at her for a moment, his lower lip slipping down more and more each second. He moved his mouth, as if to speak, but stopped, and Sora followed his glance to Izzy, who was engaged in coaxing his earplugs further into his ear canals and staring pointedly anywhere but at them. _Later, _Matt mouthed, and Sora nodded. Yes, she could see this conversation becoming private (and possibly mushy). Best to save it for some other time.

Suddenly, the people nearest them started shifting, and Amy slipped her way through the gap, clutching a clear cup to her chest. She immediately latched on to Izzy, and she was breathing heavily, as though she had just finished a tennis match (despite the practice Sora had given her, Amy was showing no immediate signs of improvement in her stamina or skill at the sport).

"Something wrong, Gorgeous?" Matt asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. Amy shook her head, then wobbled slightly. Izzy took hold of her wrist and frowned up at her, eying the drink.

"Naw, n-nothing," Amy sputtered. "Just, it's too crowded! But, any dang way, lookit what I got!" She held up her prize, then tipped her head back, tilting the liquid into her mouth.

"Tai will be most pleased when he notices that you made off with one of his drinks," Izzy said, his tone entirely blank. Sora couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled up her throat. She only wished she could see the moment when Tai realized that his sweet, gentle cousin had swiped alcohol from him.

"Feh!" Amy retorted, rolling her massive eyes. "I'll pay'm back tomorrow. But I don't havvuh fake ID, and he said I couldn't have more, which is _so _unfair!"

Izzy was watching her carefully, and, for the first time, Sora noticed the extreme intensity of his glance. "I'm quite thirsty," he said, and Amy smiled and handed the cup over wordlessly.

_So trusting, _Sora thought, sharing a quick grin with Matt. Amy started to speak some more, but broke off entirely and turned towards the far side of the room, and Sora followed her gaze automatically. Someone was stepping onto the stage, approaching the group of microphones standing towards its center. He bent towards one and announced that karaoke would be open for the next hour.

Amy swayed on her feet and made a mad grab for Matt, dislodging herself from Izzy in the process. "Maaaaaatt, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, let's do karaoke!" she cried. Matt grimaced and shook his head, and Sora felt herself deflate slightly. She hadn't seen Matt onstage since attending the final Teenage Wolves concert. True, karaoke was far less impressive overall than a live performance, and she had watched him play and sing both by himself and with Amy over the last few weeks, but still. Any missed chance to see him perform was a disappointment.

"Awww! But Sora would like it," Amy muttered. Her hand slid forlornly off of Matt's wrist. He stared at Amy for a moment, then turned to her.

"Would you like me to sing?" he asked hesitantly. "I feel a little awkward doing it without my bass, but... If you would like me to..." He shifted his weight from foot to foot and slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants, and Sora made another note of alcohol's effects on her boyfriend. Where was the normal smirk, the careless flicking of his hair into a more advantageous position?

But, no matter. Although the words weren't delivered with the usual polish, they still had a strong impact on her. Warm pleasure slid over Sora's skin, and it felt like sinking into a bath. She didn't want to force Matt, but the thought that he would step onto a stage, even a small, unadorned one in a dive bar, just for her... Her hands rose to her face of their own accord, cupping her cheeks. The burn of flushed skin met her palms.

Matt cleared his throat a little roughly, and Amy leaned closer to her, her lower lip dropping as she went. "Stars!" she sighed, rocking her body slightly. "You are _so pretty, _Sora." Her tone was a mixture of pleasure and longing, and Sora watched as those enormous brown eyes flit from her own face to Izzy's. Some of the glow of pleasure and excitement slid off of Amy's face. Sora was torn between the touched gratitude of receiving a sweet compliment and anxiety. Izzy was watching the group quietly, entirely missing his cue to step in and speak.

Matt took Sora's hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a faint kiss to her knuckles. "She's right, of course," he said as he released her, and Sora stared up at him, dumbfounded by his praise, his elegance, his good looks, the restrained passion in his voice. _It's too much. It's too much to be allowed. How unfair for all the other boys that this one received so much more of everything than the rest...! _

Thankfully, she was spared from responding by Matt lightly taking hold of Amy's wrist and leading her towards the stage. For a moment, Izzy and Sora watched them move deeper into the crowd, and she desperately tried to recover from Matt's far too emotive words of parting.

"You do know," she said at last, edging closer to Izzy, "that you were supposed to jump in and say something nice about how Amy looks, right?" Sora was certain that Amy's words slipped out of her on their own, and, once spoken, that they made Amy compare her appearance to Sora's. Apparently Amy rated herself as being relatively deficient, and that was oddly heart breaking.

Izzy turned to her, blinked, and dropped his face into his palm. Then he pulled his hand down slowly, breathing deeply all the while. "I must have misplaced my script," he drawled. For a moment, they were both silent, and Izzy filled the gap by taking a deep draught from Amy's drink. "Her lack of confidence is both perplexing and horribly vexing."

Although Sora did agree to a certain extent- it was hard not to get a little annoyed and uncomfortable when someone put herself down like that- she also took issue with the little redhead's complaint. "Well," she said gently, dearly hoping that she wasn't about to offend him, "that's true, but... When's the last time you said something complimentary to her?"

Izzy's black eyes snapped to hers, then quickly averted. He pressed his fist to his chin and produced a far-off humming sound. "I can think of at least two separate occasions when I've directly complimented her." Sora stared at him, unsure of how to respond. He seemed to think that this was a fine number. Now that she thought of it, Amy had said more sweet things to her _tonight_ than that. Could she really blame a girl for feeling a little deflated when the boy she liked was so sparse with his compliments?

"Out of curiosity, how many of those compliments were given in situations where _not _giving them would have been an obvious social faux pas?"

Izzy said nothing, but every single muscle in his face seemed to simultaneously bunch up. Obviously, Sora had made her point, and she knew better than to push anymore than she already had. Any more would be insulting.

"Let's try to get closer to the stage," Sora said. Izzy stared at her for a moment, then shook his head, mutely accepting her change of subject. As they advanced, Sora turned her attention to the stairs connecting the stage to the floor, where Matt and Amy were waiting their turn. Amy was gesticulating at Matt, and he nodded every now and then, looking more than a little put-upon by what was clearly a long string of orders. Amy leaned in near his ear, removed an earplug, and began to sing, and Matt listened intently, his expression clearing of annoyance by degrees. He interrupted her from time to time to ask questions, and Amy obliged with enthusiasm.

_She may get on his nerves from time to time, _Sora thought, folding her hands into the long sleeves of her kimono, _but Matt certainly respects Amy as an artist. _This process went on until the current karaoke performance ended. As soon as the singer left the stage, Amy bounced onto it and moved towards the microphone. Even from this distance, Sora could see Matt's eyes widening. He made a grab for Amy's arm, but missed. Sora had no idea what he was so worried about, and she glanced down at Izzy. He was frowning thoughtfully, so apparently he noticed Matt's panic, as well.

"Helloooo!" Amy chirped into the microphone. She took hold of it and placed some of her weight on the stand, twirling a hip outward. "In honor of Halloween, we're going to sing some Phantom for all you loooovely people!"

Sora started laughing before she could even pinpoint what was so funny here. Amy's delivery was painfully cheesy and overly enthusiastic. She glanced down and saw that Izzy's face was attached to his palm with a closeness that suggested magnetic attraction.

Amy began to turn away from the microphone, but twirled back towards it, as if with a sudden thought. "Oh, right! I forgot. Just so everyone knows..." At this point, Matt had made his way over to her, and was reaching for her microphone, his hand inching towards the top of it, where the on/off switch probably rested. "This is Matt, formerly lead singer and bassist for The Teenage Wolves!" She gestured blindly towards the side of the stage where she had entered, smacking Matt in the face in the process. He grimaced and slumped over for a moment, then straightened in time to receive the crowd's excited roar of approval. It was a deafening shriek of ecstatic female voices, and, more for old time's sake than anything else, Sora added her cry to the din, then laughed at Izzy's mixed look of surprise and disapproval. _Poor Matt. So much for keeping a low profile, I suppose, _Sora thought with a grin.

Then, heavy, bone-shaking peals of organ music flooded the club, and Sora grinned when she realized that Amy had completely neglected to introduce herself. Matt slipped a microphone out of one of the stands, then handed it off to Amy, who was tugging ineffectively at the one in front of her. He took another one for himself, then offered Amy his arm. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then took hold of his elbow, allowing him to lead her back a few steps. By the time she opened her eyes again, they were half-lidded, as if she were in something of a daze. Her golden eyelids rose and lowered a few times in a sleepy, disoriented sort of way.

By degrees, her posture changed, until she was standing straight, tall, and centered, with her shoulders low and back. Her gaze finally focused on Matt's face, and she stepped closer to him, until they were toe-to-toe.

"In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came

That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name.

And do I dream again? For now I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind."

Sora stepped back, knocking into the person behind her. She turned automatically towards Izzy, her eyes wide. "Did you have _any idea _she was this good?!" Sora squeaked. Yes, technically Sora had seen Amy perform in the past, but her vocal part hadn't been very challenging in the song. And she was careful not to call too much attention to herself, since, as Amy had explained to her a while back, she was in no way the main focus of the band.

But now...! The music of Phantom was demanding, emotional, and some of the songs featured an unusual, enticing combination of dark elements, romance, and the otherworldly. And Amy was portraying that perfectly, now leaning into Matt with heat and intense focus in her eyes, now stepping back and looking a little lost, as if she were unsure that this encounter was real, now reaching hesitantly back towards him, her face torn between fear and longing, like Eve reaching for a fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. And her voice was so sweet and lilting, but tinged with something low and caliginous, a heady, frightened undertone that stirred a primal sort of fear and attraction in the listener.

"I had an inkling," Izzy muttered, not looking away from the stage, "but to see it in person like this..." He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Shaking her head unsteadily, Sora turned her attention to her boyfriend. He had spent most of Amy's verse studying her, his blue eyes unmoving and focused. But, as the last notes of accompaniment before his answering verse ended, he took in a deep breath and drew his body up, playing off of Amy's example. He glanced at one of the nearby screens- apparently he wasn't as familiar with the song as Amy- then leaned in, using his few extra inches of height to create a sense of surrounding and looming over her.

"Sing once again with me our strange duet.

My power over you grows stronger yet!

And though you turn from me to glance behind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there...inside your mind."

Matt was a very, very good singer, if Sora's taste in music was anything to go by, but he wasn't extraordinary. And this genre was much more challenging than the vocal parts for the music he wrote. But what he lacked in vocal _oomph, _he more than compensated for with pure, concentrated sexiness. His tone was low, rich, seductive, the perfect counterpoint to Amy's ethereal sweetness and purity. And, even from her spot a few people in from the stage, Sora's legs were growing weak from the look in his eyes. _I've captured you, and I know it, _they seemed to say. _You're mine, and, believe me, you'll enjoy every moment of being in my power. _Sora was suddenly grateful for the general din in the bar, because it obscured the tiny mewl that slipped out from between her lips.

The song continued in that fashion, with an intense connection building, both vocally and physically, between Matt and Amy. But, somehow, jealousy didn't occur to Sora; when Matt touched _her_, what would begin as slight, innocuous contact would soon morph into a restrained sort of need. As Sora reciprocated, that restraint would slowly fade, although they hadn't progressed past deep, protracted kisses that left her light-headed and longing for more. Sora wanted to go further- much further, to be completely honest- but her ingrained sense of propriety, her awareness of the delicateness of her particular situation, and her lack of romantic experience all held her back from mentioning it.

At any rate, when Matt interacted with Amy, it was obvious that he was completely comfortable with her, and that they shared rapport and trust, but the cues signaling desire and passion that Sora received from him were entirely absent. And so, she enjoyed the performance with no bad feelings, unless you counted the fact that she was beginning to feel a strange sort of heated itch in a place where heated itches were distinctly bothersome.

The song ended with a spine-chilling shriek from Amy that echoed around the open room a few seconds after the accompaniment track ended. Instinctively, Sora looked over at Izzy, and they shared a look of mixed shock, awe, and glumness. _What are we supposed to do with partners who are so amazing onstage? _For the first time, Sora was aware of the inherent oddness of watching someone she loved perform. She knew it was Matt, knew what he was like, but his stage presence was a slightly different personality, and it was a little like observing a stranger. It was compelling, but also just a touch alarming.

Her train of thought derailed itself as Izzy gently prodded her arm. "Hm?" she asked, glancing over at him. He nodded towards the stage, where Amy was enthusiastically gesturing towards her, ignoring the cheering and roars of approval from the crowd. Sora had no idea what her roommate wanted, but she made her way forward anyway, especially as Matt began to approach the edge of the stage. When she was standing at the platform, both Amy and Matt reached for her, taking hold of her hands. Together, they began to haul her up, and Sora hastened to help, lifting herself by raising a foot onto the stage.

Once she was standing beside them, Amy grabbed her hand, then gave her a high five. "Tag!" she cried. Then she plopped herself down on the edge of the platform and eased herself onto the floor, disappearing into the crowd.

Sora turned to her boyfriend and raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled apologetically and took hold of her hand, leaning close to her ear. "Sorry," he said, sounding slightly put-upon. "Amy insisted that I serenade you. I can ask them to skip the next song, if you'd like."

But the background music was already starting, and Sora immediately identified it as the quiet, dark opening to _The Music of the Night. _Instantly, Sora knew that she had been betrayed. Somehow, Amy must have noticed her playing this song on repeat with her mp3 player while she made Matt's costume. Her throat went entirely dry as she shook her head, and she was intensely grateful that nothing would be required of her. She wasn't sure she could speak, let alone sing.

Matt began to sing, and it was awkward at first, just standing there as he performed. But then he touched her, gently cradling her face with his hands, and she felt them trembling. Somewhat alarmed, Sora looked him in the eye, which she had been too embarrassed to do before. He was smiling a little ruefully, and somehow, Sora felt the vulnerability and need that were causing the slight tremors in his voice at the end of each phrase. And, suddenly, it was all too much- the alcohol, the crowd, the music, the suggestive, seductive tone of Matt's voice, the overwhelming force of his good looks, his costume, this song that she loved, that commanded her attention even in the most innocuous settings… Her body went limp, and Matt's hands closed around her elbows, taking on her weight, holding her steady against his front.

He smirked, no doubt understanding just why she was suddenly losing command of her muscles, damn him. His eyes brightened with a playful sparkle, and his performance grew more animated, more confident. And, all the while, his touch became increasingly possessive and electrifying. By the end of the song, it was all Sora could do to stay standing, even with Matt's help. Then, finally, he squished her against him and whispered the final phrase of the song: "Help me make the music of the night."

The crowd began to shriek and cheer, but Sora was only distantly aware of the noise, even as she wryly told herself that every young woman here would be seeking out her lover tonight, if they had one, or perhaps claiming one just for the occasion. Her attention was mostly on Matt, and she batted away his microphone and pulled gently on his neck, then rested her forehead against his.

"Take me home," she whispered. There was a slight pause, and Sora felt more than heard Matt's sharp intake of breath.

His hands closed tightly around hers. "Alright."

Elsewhere

Izzy stared at the stage for a moment, even after the last notes of the song faded away. Then he pried his eyes off of Sora and Matt, who were finally ending their protracted embrace, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. _Even I feel a little stimulated, after witnessing that. _

But the swooning, shrieking women around him were wearing on his nerves, so he took hold of Amy's arm and led her away from the platform. She followed obediently, never questioning him, smiling whenever he happened to catch her eye. Izzy downed the rest of the drink she had stolen from Tai, mostly so that she couldn't ask for it, then dropped the empty container.

The crowd was absolutely unbelievable. It made the frat house look like a ghost town in comparison. There was an endless tide of people mashed together, pushing into each other, trying to create room to dance in. Their collective sweat and body heat seemed to cling to the atmosphere, creating a disgusting, hot cloud that sparkled when the strobe lights touched it. Izzy stared up at it, his face set in an awkward mixture of awe and horror. How had he failed to notice that earlier?

He turned to Amy, intending to comment on the crowd, and pulled back when he saw her face. Her complexion had gone from its normal, moonlight luster to a sickly, milky white, and her eyes were watering. She was pulling her body in towards her core, giving her a faint resemblance to an uncomfortable turtle. At first, Izzy didn't understand the sudden resurfacing of her crowd anxiety, but then he noticed what was happening behind her. A shirtless, toned young man had backed into her, and was grinding his rear into her hip, so focused on the panting girl on his other side that he didn't seem to notice Amy. She made a high-pitched whimpering sound, but Izzy could hardly hear it over _Thriller's_ pounding bass line.

Izzy grabbed her arm and lead her to the wall, doing his best to get in between her and all of the flailing limbs that seemed to reach for them as they moved. By the time they found the edge of the room, he was fairly sure that he had amassed an impressive collection of bruises inflicted by jutting elbows. But he made no comment on the pain of his battered body as he eased Amy to the wall. He rested his forearms against the wall on either side of her upper half and spread his legs around her lower half, effectively caging her off from the other people in the room.

He was too tired to raise his voice above the deafening, echoing racket of music and chatter, so he moved his lips close to her ear and whispered, "Is this helpful, or am I making you more uncomfortable?"

She produced a strained sigh and rested the side of her head against his. Her hands moved to his narrow hips and pulled him even closer to her, so that their bodies were flush. Izzy swallowed hard, trying his best to ignore his face's sudden proximity to her chest, which was tantalizingly showcased by the low cut of her dress and the shining specks of glitter spread over her skin. Something was strange here, and he was aware of that, but his inebriated mind couldn't pinpoint the problem. Especially not when there were sparkly breasts to admire. After all, he liked those as much as the next man, or, at least, he liked _these_.

"It helps," she said softly. Her lips brushed his ear as she spoke, and his body shivered automatically. "It really helps. Thank you much."

"I'm glad to be of service," he said faintly, now staring openly at her chest. Her eyes were shut, and her hands were inching under his shirt, tugging him even closer to her, so he was reasonably assured that she didn't notice his fixation. They stood like that for a little while, and, if he weren't so drunk, he would have scolded himself for the way his mouth watered as he continued to admire the pale, tantalizing swells of her breasts. But, he was drunk. _God_, was he drunk.

"You know," she said at length, drawing her fingers dreamily up and down his sides, tracing the outline of his ribs, "if I weren't so craaaaaazy drunk… I think I would totally kiss you."

Shock broke through the alcohol-induced haze of contentment around his mind, and the problem with this situation was suddenly painfully obvious. Amy was afraid of men, or afraid of intimacy, or afraid of people who were physically more powerful than her, or…_something_. He hadn't pinpointed the exact source of her discomfort when it came to the opposite sex. What mattered here was that this was the complete opposite of her typical behavior. But she was absolutely blitzed, and there was a definite air of sensuous abandonment in the club. Alcohol and arousal could be a potent combination.

And that was true for the both of them. He was also drunk, and, although the show of bare flesh, kissing, and dancing so explicit that only scant clothing prevented it from being intercourse appalled him, it did kick up his pulse and heat his blood.

Those voices that normally reminded him that he was stoic, that he was disinterested in anything sexual, that he wasn't capable of romantic feelings were screaming within him. He couldn't hear them in the slightest. The siren calls of inhibition and desire were much more potent. He wanted that kiss, craved it, could practically feel its phantom touch on his flesh, sending tremors of anticipation over his small frame. He licked his lips. It felt disturbingly good.

Izzy pulled back from her enough to have a look at her face, but her eyes were still closed. She was smiling dreamily, looking much more at peace than she should have, and he was suddenly deeply aware of her trust in him. He shut his eyes and fought to limit his cursing to his mind. He couldn't take the kiss from her, not when he could tell that she was counting on him for protection, not when her body was relaxing by degrees against his.

But he wasn't above trying to convince her to agree to it. He began to speak, but his voice was mysteriously beyond his reach, so he cleared his throat noisily and tried again. "I was under the impression that those kinds of uncharacteristic acts were _more_ likely under the influence of alcohol, rather than less likely."

A slight frown marred her serene expression. "Eh? Could you speak less brainy? I'm kinda loopy."

"That's more or less my point." _So yield to your inebriation. Do something stupid for once, lower your guard, trust me completely. Kiss me. _If he said those words, would she listen, or would she fear him?

"Ooooooh," she sang, opening her eyes at last. "I get it. But, you know, if I kissed you, tomorrow I would be all like, was that coz I was drunk? And then it would be all weeeeeird between us, and I don't want that, coz, you know… I like you."

"You like me," he repeated tonelessly, too overwhelmed to process the emotional content. Then, something fierce and hot and needing swept over him, and, just like that, his body went from flushed to burning. He wanted to touch her face, but he was reluctant to move his arms, to give anyone a window through which to accidentally strike her. He licked his lips again, and a slight panting sound slipped out from between them, but he was too overwhelmed to notice it. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

She blinked and patted his sides absently. "What does anyone mean by it?" she said airily, rolling her eyes. The ocular movement seemed to make her dizzy, and, despite being pressed up against a surface, her body buckled. Izzy steadied her body with his, sighing all the while at her ability to dance around a question, even when smashed. "I like you. I want you around. I would be sad-face if things went weird between us, like that one time." Her eyelids moved up and down slowly, and Izzy watched them, entirely captivated by the reflection of strobe lights off of her shimmering, golden eyeshadow.

"Oh, hey!" she said suddenly, as if a thought had just occurred to her. "Do you like me back?" Her voice was colored with earnest curiosity.

His brain immediately offered up his typical answer: _say she's charming_. But, somewhere between coming up with the response and speaking, another voice within him offered a different suggestion. It was more honest, and therefore much, much more dangerous, but the words slipped out before he could alter them into something safer. "Yes. I do. Furthermore, if you kissed me, I promise I wouldn't find it strange or unpalatable, neither now nor in the future. Should you reconsider."

Amy gave him a strange look, pressing her brow down and lowering her bottom lip. "Waaaaait," she said suspiciously, slurring slightly over the word. "You don't want kisses. Not from me. Maybe not from anyone. I mean, Mimi keeps saying that you're wired all normal and stuff, and that you stare at me a lot, and I guess you do seem to like this dress, but at the same time you also seem all 'I'mma man of science, and I don't need ladies!,' like Tesla. Who was aweeeesome, bee-tee-dubs."

He closed his eyes and groaned. "I don't want a kiss from _anyone, _but I do want one from you." His instincts were going ballistic, complaining so loudly about his abandonment of his typical detachment that he could actually hear them over his buzz. _It's not true!_ they shouted. _Yes, it could be said that you harbor a germ of mild affection for her, but it's nothing you can't ignore._

Izzy was sure he could see a rush of color beneath the permanent blush Mimi had spread across her cheeks with makeup, but, then, the lighting was awfully poor. But it was clear that her eyes were widening dramatically. "Me?" she managed, and her hands tightened around his ribcage. "But… That's… No. You're just reeeeeeeally smashed, Iz, you dunno what you're saying anymore'n I do."

Izzy sighed and pressed his forehead against hers. "That… That rather hurts, but I can see where you'd say it. I've taken pains to assure myself that I am incapable of romantic attachment. But I'm done, Amy. I can't handle this any longer. I'm beginning to suspect that I will never have a clear mind again until I address how I feel about you. And, in light of recent events, I'm no longer so afraid of being romantically connected, at least, not to you. And, so…"

"You're drunk," Amy repeated loudly, cutting him off. "And, any dang way, even if you _did_ want to kiss me, I wouldn't want our first kiss to be dead drunk in a smelly grossface bar. Our friends would be like, what was your first kiss like? And I'd have to say, well, we macked on each other against the wall of a nasty bar on Halloween. I was dressed like a trashy ladybug. His lips were blood red from my trashy lipstick for the rest of the night."

Izzy sighed, stung by her rejection of his confession. But, he could sense that now really wasn't the time, so he tried to let it go, tried to find an innocuous thought to distract himself from the sinking disappointment in his gut. "You don't look trashy, Amy. Not at all. Especially by comparison. The girl to my left is half naked."

She arched an eyebrow at him and grinned. "Then maaaaaaaaybe you should stare at her, instead of my boobs."

He glanced over at the object of their gossip. She was dressed, it seemed, as 'girl-in-underwear-wearing-cat-eared-headband.' She was engaged in rubbing her painted whiskers on the face of the cowboy she was making out with. He shrugged dismissively. "I prefer looking at you. Strongly." It didn't occur to him to deny that he had, in fact, been enjoying the sight of her cleavage, and that was a true testament to the incredible, deadly power of alcohol.

Amy looked over at her, too, then tipped her head. "For reals? Hmm! She's cute, too! Buuuut, I guess my boobs _are_ pretty epic. Legendary, even. Two separate legends." Izzy snorted, then threw his head back, unable to suppress his loud laughter. When he recovered, Amy was smiling hugely, clearly pleased by his amusement.

"You laugh so cute," she sighed. "I love it. And, y'know, there's something sooooo sexy about a boy holding you against a wall. I always wanted to be kissed like that when I was younger." She glanced off into the air, and Izzy realized suddenly that, despite all of the people around them, despite the fact that he was still being jostled almost nonstop, it very much felt like they were in their own little universe, or perhaps some isolated pocket of this one. One of her delicate, arched brows rose saucily. "Pressed between two hard surfaces, with the heat of his body flowing into mine…"

Izzy grinned when he realized that she was apparently trying to write her own romance novel on the fly. "Two hard surfaces? I only see one." He tapped the wall with one of his fists, doing it loudly enough for her to hear.

She pressed her palms against her lips and giggled, long and loud. Izzy watched her with growing confusion, half holding her up with his shoulders as she doubled over, trembling dangerously. "Then you're noooot very observant, mister. Look down," she managed at last. Frowning, he obeyed, then colored severely when the movement called his attention to his hips.

"A-A-Amy," he stammered. His mind cast about for some excuse for his arousal, which was pressed humiliatingly against her inner thighs.

She waved a hand dismissively. "Bioooooologist," she said, pointing to her chest. "S'okay. It's natural. We're inna room fulla girls in slutty costumes. I _totally_ have a boner too. You just can't see it."

He snorted, then buried his face in her shoulder. Frankly, he needed the support. He was laughing too hard to stand on his own. Amy began to laugh, too, and soon they were clinging to each other, unable to do anything else and remain upright. And, just like that, his embarrassment was gone. It seemed entirely reasonable to be turned on, and to let her know about it.

When he recovered, he wiped the moisture from his eyes, settled her back against the wall, and smiled. "I would have thought that you'd be adverse to that."

"To whaaaaaat?" Amy's words came out in a playful, sing-song tone.

He caught her eyes with his and pinned her again, boxing her in with his body. "To being kissed like this. You always seem to fear physical closeness." He watched her carefully for any signs of nerves, of fear, or, ideally, of desire. What he saw was wistfulness, shown in the dreamy aversion of her eyes and the slow, winding sigh that slipped out of her lips.

She crossed her arms around his shoulders. "It wasn't always scary. But I thiiiiiiiink… I think this is the first time I've wanted it for reals. You know, like, not just fantasizing, or whatever."

"I see…" he said slowly, and he couldn't stop himself from pressing himself against her more firmly. Her body seemed to give against his, indenting slightly. It made sense; she was soft and slightly squishy, and he had no fat on his body to provide give. "Is it me, specifically, that you want to kiss, or are you responding to the many arousing stimuli we've encountered tonight?"

She snorted and pressed her open palm against his forehead, pushing his face back a few inches. Then, contrarily, she twined her fingers through his hair and pulled him back in, so that his face rested against her neck. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils, and he inhaled greedily, glad to have something pleasant to smell after being forced to endure eau de sweat and booze for the last few hours.

"Stupidface," she muttered. "Your face, it is stupid. Whattaya think?! Stars!" She nuzzled the side of his head with her cheek, and he could feel how overheated she was. "I like _you_. Everyone else can, can…" A frustrated humming sound filled his ear, and he could tell that she was too far gone to think of an appropriate idiom. "Screw those guys," she finished, and the prim, proper tone she used had him laughing again.

"Well," he said fondly, planting a quick kiss on her neck, "if you want to be kissed like this, or any other way, I'd be happy to oblige. Now or later."

Suddenly, her body stiffened, and Izzy cringed, wondering if he had gone too far, if he had crossed the line from speaking in hypotheticals to making allusions to their normal, non-Halloween existence. "Be careful what you say," she whispered, sounding far less drunk than she had a moment ago. "I'm not drunk enough to go forgettin' stuff."

Izzy sighed and eased his body away from hers, so that they were no longer touching. "More's the pity, then, as I'm too drunk to mind my tongue."

"Oooooh," she sighed wistfully. "If I weren't slagged, I could do _so much_ with that."

"I don't doubt it. You have a way with words, and I find it most attractive." She smiled, then leaned forward and rested her forehead against his.

"We… We're gonna hafta talk about this tomorrow, huh."

"I should think so."

"Suddenly, I… I don't much feel like being here. And I really hafta pee."

Izzy nodded absently and took a look around the room. Now that it was clear that nothing would be happening between them tonight, the excitement and arousal fled from his body. All that he saw around him now was drunk people dry humping like imbeciles, and it was disgusting. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and brought up the shuttle schedule. "Then you're in luck. The next shuttle should be here in ten minutes. Let's tell the others that we're leaving. I'll go back with you."

Her arms slid around his waist, and she looked down at him shyly. "Thanks. Uh, can I… Can I hold your arm?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Of course. But when, specifically?"

"On the bus. Walking to our dorm. Walking to my room." Her voice lowered in volume. "The whole time. Please?"

His eyes shut of their own accord, and he breathed in deeply, needing a moment for the strange, swelling feeling in his chest to die down. "Your wish is my command. Just allow me to escort you safely out of the club first."

She nodded, then frowned. "Y'know, Tai is gonna go all snarly when you tell him you're taking me back."

"Fuck him," Izzy said mildly, shrugging, and Amy squealed with shocked laughter. Now that she was swaying with amusement, he could easily grab her and pull her through the crowd without resistance, and that was what he did.

**Author's Note: **Was it too much? It might have been too much XD

You can probably tell that I'm kind of more into Sorato than Jyoumi, but I was actually really happy with the content of their discussion. I really like the thought that Mimi is actually thinking about her actions and trying to be less… willful out of respect for Joe. Not that I think she should alter her personality, and I hope I made it clear that she doesn't think she should either, in the long run. What I glossed over in intrinsic heat, I feel I compensated for in characterization. Or maybe I'm talking out of my ass, lol!

Oh, also, I think I might be over-impressed with Matt in general... I like him much better when I write him than I ever did when watching the show, it's kind of strange.

So next chapter is the last bit of the Halloween arc, Halloween: Aftermath. It contains mature Sorato content, a very frustrated Tai, lots of hangovers, and the continuation of the discussion Amy and Izzy started today. Please look forward to it, and thanks for reading :)


	24. Halloween: Aftermath, Pt 1

**Author's Note: **Okay guys. I'm really busy with moving, and my writing time has been a lot less than what I'd like. So, I went ahead and chopped up this update into two parts. This time, you're getting what happens to Izzy and Amy when they go home from the party. Next time, you'll be getting Sorato and a very pissed off Tai. Don't you worry, you'll still be getting all the promised content :) This way, you get some of it faster, instead of waiting a potentially long time for me to finish it all and post it at once. I figured that was better? I didn't want you guys to forget about my story from lack of updates, lol!

A note on rating. This chapter is pushing the envelope of T/M, but people who want to stay out of M territory should still be okay. However! This chapter hints at very dark themes, so please be warned of that.

**Halloween: Aftermath, Pt 1**

Amy awoke to the feeling of being shaken. The world was blurry and indistinct, and she squinted in an effort to clear her vision. She produced a gruff sound of dissent when she felt her contacts bunching up against the surfaces of her eyes, sticking and clinging here and there. Slowly, pairs of passing legs came into focus, and she stared at them in blank confusion.

Her vision was raising more questions than it answered, so she turned to her other senses for information. There was a pleasant warmth on one side of her body and across her shoulders, but her back and butt were pressed against hard, uncomfortable surfaces. Exuberant, slurring voices were echoing all around her, and she groaned and tried to bury her head into the warm thing beside her. She wanted quiet and darkness, and she wanted them _now_.

A familiar smell registered through her muddled mind, and she breathed in deeply, eager for more. The scent was spicy and masculine, but was too subtle to be cologne or aftershave. In her normal, alert state, Amy knew that scents could be deeply tied to memory, but, drunk and exhausted as she was, she had no way of being aware of that. All she knew was that she had linked this smell to something specific.

"Smells like Izzy," she murmured. Her body automatically shifted closer to whatever she was beside, and the tension resulting from her uncertainty about the environment sloughed away. A pleased, relax sigh slipped out of her.

"I should think so." Her head snapped up at the sound of that nasal, brusque voice. Suddenly, the details that had eluded her came into such sharp focus that her eyes crossed for a moment under the visual strain. Izzy's slight, short body was against hers, propping her up and holding her steady, providing a surface for her to nap against. There was a tiny dark spot on his button down shirt, and she colored slightly when she realized that she had drooled on him. They were on a university shuttle, sent out in droves as a countermeasure against drunk driving on the holiest of drinking holidays in the academic year.

He reached for her face, and Amy could feel her eyes widening as his fingertips brushed her cheek. Something ticklish and sticky was being pried away from her skin, and her cheeks burned even more as she realized that Izzy was dislodging the hair that her drooling had adhered to her flesh. "We've arrived at our dorm," he said gently, and her glance followed his fingers as they tucked the hair behind her ear. "I'd be happy to help you to your room, if you'd like."

"I, I would," she stammered. "Like that. A lot." Izzy stared at her for a moment, his expression impassive, then smiled slightly. And, despite being drunk, Amy's mind offered up a recent memory, causing Mimi's voice to flood her brain: "…you can't help it, you're totally in the mood, and that nerdy little grin just _does it_ for you…" Izzy stood and offered his arm to her, and Amy's hand twitched as she closed her fingers around it, allowing him to help her stand.

They were silent as they exited the shuttle, slipped inside the dorm lobby, and rode the elevator. If the huge effort involved in walking straight was any indicator, Amy knew she was still under the influence, but her bubbly exuberance had drifted off with her need of sleep. Izzy had to pause and wait for her to gather her bearings more than once, but he charitably made no comment on her lack of coordination. Then, they were standing at her door, and she was frowning at the wooden surface.

There was an envelope taped to it with her name on it. "Matt wrote this," she muttered as she pulled it free. She had spent far too much time looking over his lyrics and schoolwork to not recognize his handwriting right away. Her nails picked at the seal, but she couldn't seem to make any progress. Izzy gently slipped the envelope out of her hands and ripped it open in one smooth, dexterous motion. Then he returned it to her, politely offering it with the opening facing her, so that she wouldn't have to flip it over to extract the contents.

_So polite, even drunk… I love that about him. Chivalry isn't as dead as they say. _She smiled, not knowing that it came out too big and lopsided, and slipped a hand into the envelope. There was a paper and, oddly enough, a key inside. She flapped the looseleaf through the air, being far too drunk to unfold it properly, then stared at the letters until they came into focus.

_Hey Gorgeous, _it began. _Can you do me a huge favor and sleep in my bed tonight? I'll treat you to Cold Stone tomorrow with Sora, okay? My key's in the envelope. Thank you. Really. Sleep well, Matt._

For a moment, all she could do was stare at the message. Then, she noticed Izzy watching her, looking as curious as always, and she handed the paper over silently. His dark eyes darted across it, and Amy took the opportunity to watch him with the safety of knowing that she would not be noticed.

"Hmm," was all Izzy said as he returned it. Amy tilted her head and sighed. She wasn't sure why, but she wanted _someone _to acknowledge what was happening here.

"I'm bein' sexiled," she explained, waving the message in front of his face. Izzy twitched, then pressed a hand to his mouth. At first, all he did was snort, but soon he was laughing, moving away from the door quickly, no doubt so as not to interrupt any amorous activities. Amy trotted behind him, grinning hugely, delighted to hear his laughter again. She ate up every peal, every sharp gasp for breath.

He came to a stop a few yards away from her room, and she stepped into him, too drunk to absorb any information rapidly. She wanted to apologize, but he steadied her automatically and began speaking, hardly reacting at all to her clumsiness. "There's a word for it. Someone's invented a term for banishing a roommate so one can privately enjoy sexual activities." He shook his head and smiled, running a hand through his hair. "That's so very sad, yet so very delightful."

"Guess I'mma real college girl now," Amy said. Then she sighed and pulled Matt's key out of the envelope. "I don't mind usin' his bed, buuut… I don't have pj's? And I need to take out my contacts… My glasses are in my room…"

"Could you wear something of Tai's?" Izzy asked. Amy wrinkled her nose automatically.

"Yeah, maybe if he ever _washed _anything… His room smells like sweat and feet and dude." She could feel a frown forming as she considered that. "Maybe I _do _mind sleeping in Matt's bed."

Izzy snorted again, then covered his eyes and forehead with a hand. "It's becoming clear to me why Matt and Sora chose to rendezvous in your room." Amy sighed in agreement. If Sora was anything like her, an enticing odor could relax and interest her, could even stimulate her. And a foul odor… Well, that wouldn't exactly spell 'romance.' _Good move, Matt. Sucks for me, but still, well played, you jerk._

Izzy stared off into space for a moment, tapping a finger against his chin. "If you'd like, you can come with me," he offered, flicking his eyes towards her. "I may be able to help you with your contact situation, if nothing else." He began to walk, not waiting for an answer- or, perhaps the way she had instantly fallen into step with him _was _the answer.

"Uhhhhh? But, you don't wear contacts?" Amy took hold of his arm earnestly, needing his assistance to stay steady. She didn't like the way the floor was twirling about beneath her feet, no, she didn't like that _at all_.

Izzy nodded in a distracted sort of way as he opened the door to the stairwell. "Nn. Joe's mother suffers from the delusion that, if she provides him with contacts and solution, he will wear them instead of his glasses. I can't even estimate the number of expired solution bottles he's thrown away over the years. I imagine he wouldn't mind if you took the current one."

"Ahhh. 'Kay. Kinda strange, but 'kay. Thank you much, Izzy." They stepped onto Izzy's floor, and Amy extracted herself from him. "I'll be right back, 'kay? Bathroom." Izzy nodded and moved away from her, and she turned all of her attention to walking down the hallway, willing the floor to stay where it was. Once she had taken care of the end result of intaking so much fluid, she carefully washed her face and hands and rinsed her mouth, knowing that she couldn't get to her toothbrush. It took a while for her to remove all the traces of makeup, and her face was red with scrubbing by the time she was done. She wandered to Izzy's room, forcing herself to triple check the names on the door before knocking. The last thing she wanted to do was drunkenly try to get into a stranger's room.

Izzy called an indistinct acknowledgment, and she let herself in. She blinked when she realized that he had washed the fake blood off and removed his cloak. It had covered his body all night, and this was her first good look at him in his suit pants and button down.

Perhaps it had something to do with growing up with Tai, who constantly wore shorts and tees in various states of athlete's grunge, Matt, who swallowed the 'cool musician's metrosexual fashion handbook' whole around eighth grade, and TK, who, in his airy, erratic way, was so detached from the physical world that he sometimes wore mismatched socks and clothing entirely unsuited for the current weather, but… Seeing Izzy like this, dressed in well cared for, classic, somewhat dressy attire… She began to nibble her lower lip and draw closer to him.

"You… You look good. _Really_ good." Her teeth parted just long enough to allow her tongue to slip out and pass over her lip, smoothing out the bite indentations. She observed the stitching where the yoke met the back, the crisp back pleat and side pleats, and she knew that he ironed his things. _I hardly ever even iron my clothes. Just on special occasions… He can be so meticulous. _

Izzy cleared his throat and tugged awkwardly at one of his cuffs. Amy watched this with far too much interest, observing the way the fabric moved, stepping closer for a better look. "T-thank you," he managed at last, and he went to Joe's closet, moving a few things in his search for contact solution, always returning them to their original space when he was done. His phone chirped in his pocket, a faint, unobtrusive sound that wouldn't alarm people around him, and Amy bounced towards him. Since his hands were busy, she reached into his pants pocket, intending to check the message for him. His body twitched as she eased her front against his back and dug around in his pocket, her fingers brushing against his leg through the fabric.

"I've got it, thank you." His hand closed around hers, and he gently backed her out of his clothing, stepping away and pressing a finger against the touch screen of his phone. Something seemed to sink in Amy's stomach, and she sat on Izzy's bed in a disappointed daze. Memories of their encounter against the wall from a mere hour ago went through her mind, and her hands clenched against his comforter. She dearly wished that she could recreate that mood in the privacy of Izzy's room, but would it even mean anything if they weren't sober? True, it would be fun, but would it be worth the potential for stupid decisions and subsequent emotional damage?

She was so focused on her thoughts that she hardly noticed Izzy sitting beside her. He was holding two tiny paper cups, and he instructed her to remove her contacts and place them in the liquid within. Amy obeyed, sighing with relief at the loss of that feeling of suction against her eyeballs. Izzy sat the cups on his desk, and Amy tilted her head questioningly. _Shouldn't he be giving those to me? _

"Ah, Amy," Izzy said slowly, and she turned towards him automatically, despite the fact that her vision was horrendously blurred. She couldn't make anything out clearly, but she seemed to be registering movement, nervous ticks of his hands and legs. "Ah, Joe has just informed me that he won't be coming to the room tonight. It would seem that Mimi's roommate is out."

"Oh," Amy repeated tonelessly. "O…kay?" Her brain was torn between wanting to smile and say something congratulatory and slightly teasing about Joe and Mimi and wanting to ask why he was bringing it up at all, especially with that strained, high tone of voice. And, was it her imagination, or was he inching in closer to her?

"Ah, yes. And, well, given that your room is… currently unavailable to you, and Tai's room is unpalatable, I thought… I hope you won't find it inappropriate if I suggest…" Yes, he was definitely drumming his fingers against his leg; she could feel the resulting vibrations, now that their hips were touching.

"I, I have a spare set of sheets," he continued. "I could… I could put them on Joe's bed for you."

At first, the words were nonsense; they seemed too surreal to be anything else. Then, finally, they forced their way through Amy's faltering processor, and she was too overwhelmed to speak. In her excitement, she entirely missed that his offer was actually fairly innocuous, and could have been meant in a helpful, platonic way. Somehow, it seemed much more romantically charged than it should have… Or perhaps it was merely her mind interpreting things as she wanted them to be, rather than as they were. Instantly, her mind was abuzz with discordant voices, all shrilly trying to be heard over each other, like a hundred people screaming in a courtroom. _You know what you want. If he's still holding onto anything from the bar, he may be willing. Take it! No! No, it's far too dangerous, are you an idiot?! Don't you remember anything?! Altered states of mind and lust can do strange things to both of you, and you may not be able to stop it. But this isn't like the last time. I want it. I want it. God, I must be crazy, I want it._

The tip of her tongue stuck to the bottom of her front teeth as she hesitated. On one side, there was her caution, her reason, her experience. On the other, there was arousal, intoxication, and attachment so deep that it teetered dangerously towards love. They fought, and continued to fight, but Amy didn't have the time to wait for one camp to destroy the other, leaving an obvious choice. Izzy was beginning to twitch and tense beside her, and she had to say something now, for his sake.

"That's really nice of you, but I don't wanna put you through the trouble," Amy murmured, staring desolately into her lap.

Izzy's hand landed on her shoulder and tightened, and her fingers rose to his skin automatically, returning the touch. "Are you saying that because you truly feel that you're imposing, or because you don't want to sleep here?" His voice was strained and low, and Amy dearly wished that she could discern what he wanted to hear.

But, in her heart, she knew that honesty was required here. He deserved it, no matter what pain it could end up causing her. And so, she dug around inside herself, brushing aside her fears, inhibitions, and excuses as an archaeologist removes debris from a buried artifact. Her eyes began to burn as she located and acknowledged the truth within herself. A deep, trembling breath worked its way through her before she spoke it out loud.

"I said that because I… I would rather…" Her courage faltered, and she miserably wiped away a tear, wishing for access to Tai's strength and confidence. Then her hands darted around, wringing and flapping in her lap like broken birds struggling on the ground. "Wouldn't it be less work if… If we… S-share…"

There was a long, painful pause, and Izzy's hand continually tightened, until it seemed that there was a vice around her shoulder. When he spoke, his words were jerky, and they ran together slightly. "You're suggesting that we share my bed." Amy sniffed and turned away from him, apologies beating at her throat like fat raindrops on a windshield. She tried to speak one, but Izzy took hold of her face and turned it towards him. His muscles were drawn, and his color seemed a bit off.

_I freaked him out. I went too far. Stars, Charon, ready your boat for me. _Her thoughts went on like that, panicked and fast, sounding like gibberish even in her head, but she failed to notice them over her rapid babbling. "I'm so sorry. Have I ruined it forever?" she breathed, brushing her hair back from her face. "Of _course _you don't want that. You need your space, and, and, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, just forget it, please…" She continued to jabber, tearing up with frustration at her inability to stop.

Her body jumped when Izzy took hold of her shoulders and pulled her in. "Kindly stop talking," he said, and the slight bite of an order to his tone had her jaw snapping shut automatically. His fingers began to tense and relax alternately. "I truly cannot do this anymore," he muttered, and, although Amy couldn't quite say why, he seemed to be speaking to himself. He moved in close, so close that their noses touched, and Amy watched with growing confusion as deep lines formed on his brow.

"Y-yes?" he whispered, tilting his forehead against hers. Amy inhaled the smell of his breath. Rum, cola, vodka… Something tensed up in her stomach, and her hand cradled her lower gut, trying to rub away the sudden pain.

In truth, Amy had no idea what was happening here, partially because she was drunk, partially because she was exhausted, and partially because some far-off voice of reason was reminding her that there was no way this could be what it seemed. It seemed like he was purposefully making his way into her personal space, but, surely, there was some sort of logical explanation here. This was _Izzy_. Maybe he had just lost his balance and fallen towards her, or something. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she was in the Matrix. Who the hell even knew? Not her, that was for sure.

The one thing she did know was that, for better or for worse, she trusted him. "Yes," she breathed, averting her eyes. She had no idea what she was agreeing to, but she wanted to soothe away the strain and stress evident in his body and voice, wanted to feel his forehead smooth out against hers. Instead, that flesh puckered further inward, and a slight, trembling gasp slid out of his mouth. His hands tilted her face gently to the side, and she had a slight view of his eyes snapping shut before he moved in so rapidly that her vision blurred even more. There was a slight pain, and she distantly realized that his nose had smacked into her cheek. A nasal, frustrated sound registered in her mind, and then he shifted slightly.

Her eyes popped open with a violence suggesting electrocution when she felt his mouth on hers. For a moment, shock held her in place, and his lips worked vainly against hers. She asked herself, in a distant, detached manner, if this was actually happening, or if she was dreaming, or perhaps suffering from extreme lunacy. But no, she could see him, smell him, feel him, taste him- _Sweet Aphrodite, I can_ taste _him. _

_This is dangerous. So very, very dangerous. Tomorrow, he's going to tell me that this was a mistake, that it meant nothing. _She could tell herself that all she wanted, but Izzy's arms were around her waist, and his embrace was like a wall standing between her heart and her own words of wisdom. Something shifted and snapped inside of her, and she clung to him, blindly taking hold of his shoulder blades and pushing him closer. Her lips curved against his, molding to them, continually moving just a beat after his, deferring to his lead. And, as soon as she gave him her acceptance, his body shuddered and moved into hers, and his hands moved possessively along her back. His tongue coaxed her mouth open, slowly, patiently, carefully. There was really no need for such caution, as she melted into his every suggestion, but she appreciated it just the same. Her brain filled with a litany of incoherent approbations, stuttering along endless strings of _yes, yes, yes, finally, stars, yes, _until even such simple words were beyond her.

There was an immediate influx of feeling as his taste flooded her mouth, and, in a bemused sort of way, Amy realized that roughly half of it seemed to be coming from him, as if their lips had formed a membrane, and emotion could slip through from one side to the other. She felt like she was receiving a lifetime of beaten down, denied passion, entering through her mouth and moving directly through her veins, as if her throat led to her bloodstream, instead of detouring through her esophagus and stomach. That need, so great in amount and so astonishingly masculine, stirred her hormones into a frenzy, and it wasn't long before her body temperature spiked. A strange, utterly foreign pulling sensation began to torment the most intimate part of her.

As for her side of the membrane, well… Her uncertainty and confusion gave way to excitement so acute that it made her heart ache, terror so overwhelming that it caused an ominous rushing sound in her ears, joy so uncontrollable that her entire frame was trembling. She had never felt so keyed up, so _alive_ in her entire life, and the whole world seemed to hang on this surreal, impossible moment. Although her eyes were closed, violent bursts of color formed in her inner vision, and she vaguely registered that she was close to passing out, likely from sheer emotional strain. She whimpered and broke away from Izzy for fear of fainting and squishing him, which might ruin the mood a bit.

They stared at each other, and he was wild-eyed, disheveled, and sweating slightly. There was a faint impression of red around his lips, likely due to the intensity of their kissing. His hands wandered down her back and further, and he worked his mouth, but no sound came out. He looked like a koi.

"Izzy," Amy muttered, pausing as his hands sank into her rear. Her sigh of pleasure should have embarrassed her, but she didn't even notice it, couldn't even hear it over the thunderous sound of her heartbeat. "I swear, if tomorrow you tell me that this was all hormones and alcohol, I'll break. I'll break, and I may never be the same again." Even in her current state, she was painfully aware of how vulnerable she was, and the thought forced burning liquid out of her eyes. She wiped it away quickly, hoping that he hadn't seen it.

He began to shake his head rapidly, and something about the furrowing of his brow suggested that he wanted to speak, but apparently his voice was still beyond him. Instead, he started kissing her again, and she took his lead eagerly, retaining enough of her faculties this time to note that he was a much, much better kisser than she would have expected. In fact, he was an _amazing_ kisser, with technical skill rivaling Mimi's. _Stars, how did someone like him learn to kiss like this? _Each heated stroke of his tongue, each hungry brush of his lips on hers, had her more and more at his mercy, stripping away any lingering feelings of discomfort and uncertainty. If there was any problem with this scenario, she was no longer aware of it.

There was a sudden swooping sensation in her gut, but she failed to identify it as the two of them falling completely onto the bed. Izzy was on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. His arms and legs spread around her, caging her in, just like at the bar. She remembered that he had told her he liked her there, that he wanted to kiss her. Actually, the phrase "romantically connected" had come up in reference to the two of them, hadn't it?

She hadn't dared to believe him, drunk as they were, especially when there were hundreds of other girls around who might have contributed to his arousal. But now, with his tongue caressing the silken curves of her inner cheeks, with his hands making eager, exploring trips up and down her waist, she found herself tempted to accept his words as truth. _Izzy wouldn't lead on a girl like this, _she told herself firmly. _Izzy would never use someone, no matter how drunk he is._

Her body rose towards his under the helium-like influence of euphoria. She felt completely out of her head, so worked up at the thought of possibly belonging to him that any ideas of decorum and modesty completely faded from her memory. When the most intimate parts of their bodies brushed by chance, she seized his rear automatically and pressed down, lifting her hips simultaneously. He grunted into her mouth, then groaned as she repeated the motion. The vibrations of his voice moving down her throat were eerily pleasurable, but not nearly so much as smushing their hips together.

She could feel the heat of his need through their clothing, could hear the slight, rather obscene sticky sound resulting from the movement against her aroused sex. Her fingers were suddenly caught up in his shirt buttons, undoing them, desperately trying to get clothing off of him. He shuddered all over, a wave of movement that seemed to assault his slight body, then moved his hands to her back, fumbling with the zipper running along her spine. Amy automatically arched forward, giving him access to the pull. He worked it, inch by torturous inch, down towards the small of her back, slowly relieving the tightness that had plagued her all night. Without willing it, she broke off the kiss and breathed in deeply, enjoying the full expansion of her diaphragm and ribcage.

Izzy cleared his throat and moved his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks. Impossibly, his body temperature was even higher than hers, and his touch was almost uncomfortably hot. "A-Amy," he stammered. His eyes flicked around for a moment, looking anywhere but at her face. Then, he took a shuddering breath, and his black eyes engulfed hers. His entire focus settled on her, and, somehow, her heartbeat accelerated further. A faint grunt of acknowledgment was all she could manage.

"I've… I've wanted this for… quite some time, now," he breathed, trailing a thumb over her lips. Amy blinked and tried to tilt her head, but his hands were holding her in place. Although she was fully aware that Izzy was speaking to her, his voice seemed to dip to a much lower pitch and gain an uncharacteristic animation. _God, I've wanted you for so long… _Her hands fell away from his shirt and landed, with a dull _fwump_, on his comforter, falling on either side of her head. Although he looked amazing, with his shirt half unbuttoned and hanging open, his hair tussled by her fingers, his eyes gleaming with rare emotion, she found that she suddenly couldn't look at him.

Izzy's hands drew down her cheeks, then followed the curves of her neck. "You… I find you alarmingly attractive." His fingers trailed over the beaded straps of her dress, hooked around them, and hesitated. Conflict was evident on his face, in the furrowing of his brow and the tight line of his lips, but Amy noticed this as if from a great distance, despite their proximity. _You're so damn beautiful… _There was a sudden, almost painful tightness to her muscles, so much so that she wasn't sure she could move them. Her breathing grew shallow and quick. She forced herself to look at him, reminding herself sharply that this was Izzy, a wonderful person that she held in the utmost regard, and that there was nothing to fear. But when their eyes met, his irises seemed to lighten dramatically, until they were shocking, husky blue. A tight, unnatural sound escaped her throat.

Izzy's hands fell away from her dress straps and settled gently onto her wrists. "Please, don't take this as an insult, Amy. I…" he laughed awkwardly, painfully, then trailed faint kisses down her neck, as if in apology. "Believe me. I honestly can't think of anything I'd want more than to continue this. But… But I'm… I'm terribly fond of you, and I'd hate to go about this the wrong way. Before anything else happens, I need to know exactly what you want." He kissed her again, gently, sweetly, his lips parting just a touch, as if to taste a fine wine. A faint whimper got caught somewhere behind Amy's teeth.

_I love you. I love you. I'm fucking crazy for you. Let me show you. I know exactly what you want…_

Panic seized her, locked her body down, glazed her eyes with a layer of stinging moisture. She tried to speak, but the sudden nausea and fear, along with whatever was inhibiting her body's ability to respond to her orders, was making it so very difficult. Her eyes slid shut, as if a lack of visuals would save her, and tears slid down her cheeks in blazing trails.

"Amy- what's wrong? You're crying! And your body has gone so tense- Please- please- I hope I haven't-" Izzy's voice was higher than ever with strain, but Amy hardly registered it. In her mind, it sounded low and rough, slightly abrasive with its inherent self-assurance and volume. The male, warm, aroused body on top of hers commanded all of her attention, and she tried to push it away, but he was holding her hands down.

_What's wrong? Are you crying? I can't understand what you're saying, Ames. You need to relax, it's going to hurt if your body is so tense. _

"No? You're trying to say no, aren't you. It's alright, Amy. I understand. Please, just calm down. You're completely safe with me, you have my word."

_No? Are you saying no? It's alright, Ames, it's alright. You're a virgin, right? I understand. Calm down. Relax. I'll be gentle, so don't worry. _

Her nausea hit a fever pitch, and a burbling sound slid up her throat, closely followed by the metallic, acidic taste of bile. The body pinning her down disappeared, but her vision was too blurry to work out where he went. It took herculean effort, but she hauled herself into a sitting position, then clamped her hands to her mouth, trying to fight down the urge to throw up. Then, something was slipped onto her lap, and a hand was on her neck, easing her head lower. There was a soft, soothing touch on her back, rubbing in circles. "You're trying to vomit. You could choke if you continue to combat the needs of your body. There's no need for resistance or embarrassment."

Nothing made sense anymore. Amy had no idea where she was, why she was sick, or who was holding her hair back and wiping the tears from her face as her body violently purged itself. Something in her mind was whispering that she had never been so miserable, but, despite her confusion and fear, despite the rapidly growing rawness of her throat and the vile-smelling fluids coming out of her mouth, she knew that wasn't true. Eventually, her heaving slowly diminished, until all that came out was harsh breaths and pained vocalizations. Something was eased off of her lap, and the mattress shifted as the body seated beside hers stood.

The moment that supportive touch was retracted, Amy's fear shifted back towards panic. "T-Tai?" she managed weakly. She was fairly certain that her cousin wasn't around, but she called for him anyway, as if she were still a little girl who believed that such a thing could summon him. She squinted and looked around, but all she could make out was an impression of cream-colored walls.

There was a short silence, followed by a sharp, pained intake of breath. "Izzy. I apologize, Amy. There's a good chance that Tai is still at the bar. I can call him for you, if you'd like."

"No!" Her panic spiked even further, to the point that it was a strange sort of physical pain. "He'll kill him!" She stared beseechingly in the direction of the moving blur in the room, holding her hands out towards him. He came closer, then knelt in front of her.

"This is going to be cold," he warned her. Then he spread a wet washcloth on her face, and some of Amy's distress slipped away under the soothing, cool feeling on her sticky, overheated flesh. For a moment, she let the pleasant physical stimulus overtake her emotional strain, and she leaned gratefully into the hands offering her respite.

"Who would Tai kill, Amy?" The washcloth was moved to the back of her neck, and her body shivered with appreciation.

"Jerry," she sighed, leaning into the rubbing sensation on her shoulders. The massage stopped abruptly, and she grunted in protest. That touch had felt amazing, dammit.

"…I see." He stood again, but Amy managed to blindly grab his wrist before he moved away.

"Matt?" she demanded, staring up at him. At this point, the care that she was being treated with had convinced Amy that she was probably in trustworthy hands, but she was still tense about her unknown environment, and she required verification that no one was going to call Tai.

The boy bent over her, putting his face close enough to allow for her extreme nearsightedness. The image snapped into focus, and she registered red hair, a heavy brow, and serious black eyes. A faint exclamation of relief slid out from between her lips, and her hands automatically rose to his face. "Izzy," she breathed, pulling him in towards her. She rested her forehead on his and nuzzled him, so giddy with relief that she failed to register her behavior as being too intimate.

"Yes," he whispered, running his hands over hers. "Yes. Do you understand that you're entirely safe?"

Amy frowned and pulled back. "If you're here, then yes. But… I don't get it," she admitted, glancing about. "How- I thought- I thought Jerry was here? But that's silly," she realized, tugging her hair with frustration. "I haven't seen him since I graduated. So, why…? Were you here the whole time?" Her tone was oddly suspicious by the time she finished speaking, as if she thought that he had pulled some sort of elaborate magic trick. It was far-fetched, she knew, but her brain was too addled to provide her with an explanation.

For a moment, Izzy just stared at her. Then, he exhaled slowly, breathed a curse so biting that Amy flinched, and rested his head on her shoulder. Amy patted his back automatically, then wrapped her arms around his upper body, leaning into his torso. She didn't know why he was upset, but she wanted to soothe him, if she could.

"It would seem," he said darkly, "that you, Amy, had best not mix alcohol and amorous activities. Someone might have given me a warning to that effect…" He kissed her shoulder gently. "I can't apologize enough, Amy. I had no intention of confusing you or making you remember… Someone else. I should have known that intimacy could frighten you, particularly when drunk." By the time he finished speaking, he sounded absolutely disgusted with himself, but Amy was more interested in his intimation that they had been in any way intimate.

And, suddenly, memories managed to fight their way through Amy's inebriation, fatigue, and emotional stress. "We were kissing!" she cried, pulling back enough to grab his shoulders and shake them. "I was kissing you. You were kissing me back- You were _totally_ kissing me back!" She pulled him back in, holding him tightly against her, and her voice reached squeaky heights under the influence of her excitement. Izzy flailed slightly, and Amy realized, belatedly, that she had smushed his face directly into her chest, and that her dress had somehow slid down to her stomach. She released him abruptly and pulled the fabric back over her strapless bra, trying to fight down her embarrassment.

"Yes," Izzy muttered as he backed away. "Yes. I totally was." And, despite everything, Amy had to smile at the dryness of his tone. Izzy slipped away again, but Amy didn't fret over it this time. She swung her feet over the side of his bed, awash with the pleasure of remembering their recent encounter. Her fingers moved to her lips, and she found that they were slightly sore from their kissing. Somehow, that mild discomfort felt oddly like pleasure.

This time, he had a bottle of water upon his return, and Amy reached for it eagerly. "Rinse your mouth out first," Izzy warned, offering up the tiny trashcan that he kept by his desk. Amy wrinkled her nose and drew her body away from it, repulsed by the smells wafting off of it.

"Feh!" she cried, pushing it away. Izzy sighed and pressed it back towards her.

"Yes, I'm afraid your vomit smells just as bad as the next person's. Now, rinse." Frowning, Amy did as she was bade, swashing water around in her mouth and spitting it into the trash can. Then, she drank deeply, ignoring the lingering taste of bile, letting the cold water soothe her wrecked throat. Izzy left the room for the moment, then returned and lined his trashcan with a new plastic bag.

"Can we sleep?" Amy asked as he settled the can by the bed. "I'm so tired…" Even the excitement of remembering their kiss could not fight the sleepiness brought on by her emotional strain and a night of partying, and her body was inching into a supine position of its own will.

Izzy leaned over her, running his fingertips down the side of her face. "As you will," he said, and his voice was strangely hollow. "I'll readjust your clothing and take you to Matt's bed."

Amy's shoulders were slumping before she even understood why. "Oh… But… I thought I was sharing your bed," she muttered, rubbing her upper arms. Fear and doubt began to assault her heart. Every day, she devoted a great amount of will into forgetting her last date with Jerry. Normally, this approach served her well enough, but when she was forced to remember, being alone made her feel like a small child, convinced that a monster was lying in wait in the closet. She reached for Izzy, hesitating, feeling suddenly unsure of her welcome.

Izzy sat next to her on the bed and closed his hands around hers. Amy could see and hear him swallow. "I would like that," he said softly. "But I don't want to risk causing you panic again."

"It's okay," Amy said earnestly, leaning against his shoulder. "Please, don't make me sleep by myself. Usually I don't remember it- prom, I mean- and when I do remember it, I have nightmares. But, if I'm with you, I won't be scared. Just… Just maybe don't kiss me again until I'm sober?"

"Amy…" Izzy trailed his fingers over the back of her hand, then eased the water bottle out of her grip. He finished it off in one long swig, then placed the empty bottle on the floor. "I have a condition. I'll share my bed with you if you agree to discuss what happened tonight when we awake… and what happened with Jerry. I know it's not really my business," he added quickly, "but, if we're going to… _interact_ as we just did in the future, then I need to know how to avoid frightening you."

Amy shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead. A lonely, desolate feeling swept through her body, and she clung to Izzy instinctively. He rubbed her back, slipping her dress to the side, working her tight, tired muscles. "I guess you do need to know," she admitted. She sounded as afraid and alone as she felt, and Izzy must have heard it, too, because he embraced her with a kindness that had her eyes watering again.

"I'm so sorry to ask that of you." She sniffed in response, not knowing what to say, and Izzy patted her back one last time, then released her. "You can borrow my robe," he said, moving towards his closet. "Perhaps you can keep a set of night clothes in my room for future incidents."

Amy blinked at his blurry back. "This really isn't going away tomorrow, is it?" she asked, smiling shyly, despite the fact that he wasn't looking.

"I would strongly prefer that it not." His tone was all detached bluntness, but he was a bit red in the face when he came back with his robe. As he handed it over, he explained that he would look the other way and change, and Amy fearlessly removed her dress, tights, and bra and tied the robe in place, trusting him implicitly. It was short and a little tight on her, but not uncomfortably so. Soon, he was pulling back the covers of his bed and helping her slip in. He flicked off the light and joined her, pressing his body against hers in order to fit onto the twin bed.

"Well… Goodnight, Amy," he said, clearing his throat gruffly. "Ah… Should you have any nightmares, or should you need anything, please feel free to wake me." Slowly, carefully, he slid an arm around her waist, and she mirrored the touch, trying to let him know that she wanted it.

It occurred to her that she had never received a goodnight kiss from a romantic interest before, and her fingers began to drum along his ribs. "Ah, Izzy?" she asked, working her hands beneath his shirt.

"Hn?" He shifted slightly against her, presumably turning his eyes towards her face, despite the room's darkness.

"Can I… I mean, I know I said no kissing until we're sober, but… Can I have just a little one?"

There was a long pause, and, for a moment, Amy assumed that there would be no answer. Then, his hand stroked her cheek, and she felt him moving towards her. His lips brushed hers, gently, soothingly, and she automatically took hold of his shoulders. She tugged, and he allowed her to direct him up and to the side, so that he was leaning over her, his upper body propped up with his elbows. Her hands caressed his face, feeling the slight beginnings of stubble there, then slid down to his chest. He was slight, and it seemed like she could feel his lungs and heart working, as if his small frame failed to fully separate them from the outside world.

The kiss was long and languid, peaceful, but somehow deep and communicative. She felt like she could almost hear him speaking to her, conveying more information than should have been possible. But there was a barrier there, as if he were speaking Spanish, and she could only understand one word in ten. Would she eventually be able to catch every word with practice, or was the garbling effect the result of her fatigue? No matter; she dismissed everything from her mind except the warm, tender feelings spreading all over her, moving her that much closer to sleep.

She would later recall that she had no memory of that kiss ending, as if Izzy had softly moved his lips against hers until her consciousness slipped away.

**Author's Note: **Okay guys, show of hands. Who thinks Izzy's going to freak out in the morning when he realizes what happened last night? Because, let me tell you, that was not his typical behavior there. How about Amy? Actually, I think that, despite everything, she's remarkably happy at the moment.

I really liked some things about this chapter. In the beginning, Amy's clearly drunk, but she knows what's happening, and the chapter reads more or less as normal. But as she gets confused, I think her disjointed, uncertain feeling came through pretty well. I kept wanting to edit it into something clearer, but I forced myself to leave it. The disappointing thing is that we don't really know what Izzy was thinking at all, we know even less than we usually do when the POV is with someone else, because Amy was so confused that she hardly knew what _she_ thought. I do worry, though, that I went too far or not far enough with trying to convey the trippy, panic-induced stuff going on in her head.

But yikes, that is _not_ going to be a happy conversation in the morning. But no worries for now, because next chapter will be some M rated Sorato, and that makes everything better, right? Two updates from now, we will finally be learning, flat out, what happened with Amy and Jerry, both from Amy, and then from Matt, as Izzy (correctly) reasons that Amy is skimping on important details.


	25. Halloween: Aftermath, Pt 2

**Author's Note: **There's no way around it, guys. This chapter is pretty much a long string of mature content. You may recall the mature content in chapter 16. Because it was through Izzy's perspective, and because it was an indistinct dream sequence, it was written in an indirect, comparatively classy way. This is going to be a lot more blunt and straightforward. And, just to remind you, I AM a scientist. I have no problem whatsoever with using the proper names for body parts (although sometimes I dance around it for the sake of being, you know, a bit more proper), and I also have no problem with bodily functions. I'm serious. This chapter is almost 7 K words of straight-up Sorato sexy times.

So, uh, consider yourself warned.

**Halloween: Aftermath, Pt 2**

Matt watched Sora work the lock to her dorm room in silence, focusing all of his efforts on maintaining a calm exterior. Although the kids on the shuttle home had behaved raucously, Sora hadn't shifted her attention away from him once. Her fingers had run up and down his arm, and, despite the innocence of the location, there had been something both yielding and commanding about her touch. It would seem that his girlfriend had a surprising capacity for single-minded intensity about what she wanted.

And tonight it was abundantly clear that _he_ was what she wanted.

Trouble was, that thought had Matt shifting so rapidly between excitement, heat, and panic that those emotions were beginning to blend together into a single, indecipherable, agitating blur. And, for a young man who typically kept a firm grip on his emotions, as strong as they were, this sensation was very uncomfortable.

_Man up, old son, _he scolded himself as Sora pushed her door open. He very much wished that he weren't drunk; the alcohol, he knew, was drowning out his typical calm and self-assurance, and he was in desperate need of them. It was already shocking to Matt that he had gotten through the night without a major social slip-up of some kind. He grimaced as he remembered that he hadn't exactly been as smooth as usual this evening, but, judging by the shy, but unbelievably sexy smile that Sora gave him from over her shoulder, his behavior had still sufficed.

That smile was a summons, and Matt couldn't have denied it if he wanted to. His feet moved him into her room of their own will, and his hand cunningly closed around the doorknob, twisting it shut behind him. Sora approached him, moving into him, and he allowed her to back him into the closed door. Her clever little fingers slipped under his hand, and Matt blinked as he felt the _click _of the tumblers sliding into place within the lock mechanism.

_She just locked us in her room. _The thought hardly had time to register in his brain before it was obliterated by Sora wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting herself towards him, pressing her lips to his with an eagerness that had Matt leaning into the door for support. His hands immediately moved to her rear, holding her up against him. Her tongue was a wave of frantic heat in his mouth, hellbent, it seemed, on tasting as much of him as quickly as possible, as if he would evaporate away at any moment. Without thinking, Matt hooked a hand on the backside of her thighs, and she threw her body upwards and in, allowing him to take on her weight. Dazed, he moved into the room, and her legs wrapped around his body, crossing just above his ass. Matt sent a mental word of thanks to Tai, who, in that obnoxiously superior way, had forced him to work on his upper body strength before college started.

He loved how small Sora was, loved that he could cradle her against him with relative ease, loved that he could surround and encircle her like this. But, despite her small size, she was no slouch; one of her arms was wrapped solidly around his shoulders, holding her upper body steady against his, leaving the other hand free to wander blindly through his hair, sending tiny shivers down his body at the contact with his scalp.

Her fingers slipped under his mask, and he grunted slightly at the pain of its removal. Mimi had attached it with some sort of sticky stuff meant to hold knee-high socks in place, and he was suddenly grateful that he had thought to shave before agreeing to her methods. He distantly hoped that his eyebrow was still fully intact. Next, her fingers went to the clasp of his cloak, and soon the fabric was tumbling to the floor. There was a sudden tugging sensation at his waist, and Matt realized that his girlfriend was trying to un-tuck his shirt. The combination of her consuming kiss, which was rapidly teaching him that desire had a definite taste, and her unabashed, almost wild method of stripping him was sending waves of heat through Matt, culminating in a shifting of his blood. He suddenly wished that Sora had given him just a little more room in the crotch of his pants.

It required some hefty willpower, but he managed to pry his lips away from hers long enough to get a breath. She moved forward automatically, trying to renew their kiss, but he kept his mouth just out of reach. Perhaps it was a bit foolish on his part, but he couldn't help but smirk in response to her look of frustration. "You're bold when you're drunk," he observed. His grin grew lazy and boyish in response to the foreign flash of temper in her eyes. _Interesting. Very, very interesting… _He leaned forward and nipped her neck, easing into a string of kisses that had her shivering against him. Her other arm joined its sister in holding herself steady.

"You've been teasing me all night," she reminded him, and there was a faint huskiness to her usual warm, feminine tone. "So don't call me bold, Matt." Matt's lips curved into another smirk against her neck, and she must have felt it, because she _tsked _and tweaked the back of his ear just hard enough to sting.

Matt slowly lowered her legs, and she eventually caught on and helped him ease her into a standing position. He tried to ignore the slight burn of exertion already forming in his arms. If this encounter continued in its current direction, he might need every bit of his strength. Heat swept over his face, and he fought to keep those thoughts at bay. If he didn't keep himself firmly in this exact moment, he ran the risk of losing his already tenuous hold on his cool.

One moment, Sora was staring up at him, her eyes focused and determined, and the next, they were oriented towards the floor. She hesitated and stepped slightly away from him. Frowning slightly, Matt followed her glance and saw that it was lingering on his cloak. A small smile formed on his face as Sora gently lifted her handiwork from the floor and shook it out.

"You know," she said slowly, draping the cloak over her chair, "it suddenly occurs to me that neither one of us has our own space."

_Stay cool, old son. Breathe. Breathe. _Mercifully, despite the nerves and panic thrumming through his body, feeling very much like vibrations from his bass when amped up to concert volume, Matt was fairly certain that his expression was collected. "True. But, if you'd like some privacy, I'm sure Amy wouldn't mind taking my bed for the night. It's probably less awkward than having Tai take yours." Matt could have added that, despite his nagging, Tai hadn't washed his clothes or sheets since the Mesozoic period, rendering their room miserably unfit for romantic encounters. _Smells like a damned locker room. Even I can't get anywhere with a girl in there. Plus, Tai can keep an eye on Amy when her hangover hits. She may not be too pleased with me tomorrow, though… _

"I hope she doesn't mind," Sora muttered, running her hand through her hair. "How does this work? Do we call her…?"

Matt shook his head and went to her desk, rummaging about for paper and a pen. "She's never been good about checking her phone, and she won't hear it if she's still in the bar. Do you have an envelope?" Sora nodded and nudged him aside, and he slipped his room key off of his keyring as she found one for him. Matt dropped the key into the envelope, wrote out a quick explanation, and scribbled Amy's name across the front. He took some pieces of tape from Sora's dispenser, opened her door, and attached his message to the outer surface, then relocked it behind him.

"And there you have it," he murmured, moving back towards the center of the room. He slid his arms around Sora's waist and ran his fingers through her hair, partially because he wanted to, and partially to stall. He wasn't sure what his next move should be.

Matt was aware that he had behaved somewhat passively in the initial stages of their relationship, erring continually on the side of caution. He couldn't help it; he had been terrified of misstepping and losing his chance to be with Sora. Now that their relationship was established, and it was so clear that she was in the mood, he strongly wanted to show the dominance that he had danced around before. But he was also chivalrous to the core, and was worried about pushing too hard, particularly when they were both intoxicated.

Which all added up to making him feel as confused, uncertain, and frustrated as Tai in front of a math test. Without willing it, he exhaled sharply and ran a hand roughly though his hair, which was slightly stiff here and there with his styling gel. Why was everything suddenly awkward? It had all felt so natural just a moment ago…

Sora smiled faintly, then moved away from him. Matt watched, confused, as she sat on Amy's bed. Then she leaned over, grabbed the pull for the blinds, and lowered them. _Ah. Mystery solved. _Matt tried not to twitch as the blinds crashed loudly against the windowsill. She rose and returned to him, moving slowly and deliberately, and Matt wondered if she was struggling to walk straight. Of the lot of them, Sora and Joe had drank the least, but he was entirely unfamiliar with her tolerance.

He met her half way, wrapping his arms around her, supporting her. Her hands went to his shirt again, completely removing it from his pants. Once it was free, Matt lifted it over his head, then tossed it onto Amy's bed, knowing better than to let Sora's clothing crumple to the floor. He tried to take a deep breath discretely, which was difficult when shirtless, then placed his hands on Sora's hips, running them slowly down to her thighs.

His brain faltered for a moment. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea how to get her kimono off. What began as a faint feeling of confusion soon grew into full-blown frustration, and he felt like a kid who had located his hidden Christmas presents, only to realize that he had no way to unwrap them without being found out later. There was no obvious way to remove the tie around her upper waist, and he wasn't even sure if the body of the kimono was made up of one piece of fabric, or if the top and skirt were two different pieces. _This is like a fucking brain teaser, and drunks are lousy at puzzles._

Faint, feminine laughter had Matt glancing away from Sora's body and at her face. She was smiling and shaking her head slightly. "If only you could see your face! You look like a little boy who can't reach the cookie jar." Matt inched away and grunted, feeling embarrassed and slightly ruffled by her teasing. But then her fingertips were on his chest, quickly giving way to her palms, which moved eagerly and tenderly over his skin. She leaned closer and kissed his neck, then dipped her tongue along the indentations formed by his clavicle. "You don't know how to work a kimono. That's fine. I do."

_Don't whimper. Don't whimper. _Somehow, mercifully, his body obeyed his orders, and he dredged up a smirk from some secret reserve of calm and cool. "I see. Shall I make myself comfortable, then?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. The words were meant to return tease for tease, of course, but also to distract himself from his frantic heartbeat, from the heat and the strain building up between his legs. What _was _it about Sora? He had dated beautiful girls before, but a word, a look, a gesture from her could have him nearly at her mercy. It was like a tornado in his brain, throwing everything into an uproar, trying to rip its way out of him, threatening to tear him apart. His legs trembled as he lowered himself onto Sora's bed.

Sora retaliated by reaching over and tickling his ribs, drawing a surprised chuckle out of him. She forgave his snark quickly, though, and he was grateful; he _hated _being tickled, something that Tai, TK, and even Amy had all used in the past at some point to get their way. Her hands cupped his cheeks, turning his face towards hers for a quick kiss, ending with a faint nip on his lower lip. Then, she stepped back, giving herself some room to undress.

It quickly grew evident that he would have made an ass of himself trying to get her costume off. The fabric covering her waist and ribcage turned out to be not one, not two, but _three _separate pieces. Once those were out of the way, Sora began to open the iris-patterned material of the kimono, and Matt leaned forward slightly without noticing. But she was wearing a tiny white skirt and camisole beneath that, and she hesitated as her fingers edged beneath the skirt band at her waist.

Matt shut his eyes and clenched his hands against his knees. Saying these words was almost physically painful, but it had to be done. "Sora…" he began, clearing his throat. "Sora. Are you sure about this?"

Sora stared at him for a moment, then carefully laid her costume out on Amy's bed. With all of the fabric out of the way, Matt had an amazing view of her body, despite the remaining clothing. Everything was taut and firm without being too muscular, slim and delicate without looking willowy or fragile. _She's perfect. I never could have dreamed up a body that appealed to me more. And, when you add what's inside that body… _His hands clenched on his knees, and he fought to store away the thoughts buzzing around in his mind. As Amy had rather carelessly pointed out, his previous attempts at writing lyrics about Sora came out stiff, gushing, and sophomoric, like a besotted tween writing his first love poem. What he was coming up with now were words of the heart, and, although he might not be able to share them with anyone, he wanted to remember them.

But she was returning to him and settling on his lap, and he fought to give her the attention she deserved without losing his train of thought. She must have noticed his arousal, because she stiffened, smiled shyly- _God, I love that shy smile- _and rested her head on his shoulder. "I want you. You want me. What's to be unsure about?" The words were confident, but she wasn't looking him in the eye, and there was a faint hesitance to her tone. Was she also feeling a little shaky? Was it because she was a virgin, or was he not communicating his desire for her clearly enough?

"Sora. You're the most breathtaking thing I've ever set eyes on- and you're not even naked yet." That last was injected for humor, to lighten an atmosphere that had gone a little tense and strange, and Sora laughed faintly, causing her petite form to briefly shudder in his arms. Smiling, Matt slipped a hand under her camisole and stroked her side. His hands moved eagerly when he discovered how soft her skin was. _She feels so different than I do. I mean, I guess I expected it, but… _

Despite having a few girlfriends, Matt had never gotten past kissing. He had never wanted to, although sometimes his urges had definitely tried to push him past his comfort level. But he wasn't like Tai, who could share his body and his thoughts easily with anyone he was attracted to (or, at least, Tai was like that during most of high school- he seemed to have moved a little beyond that at some point, although Matt couldn't say for sure how he knew it). His body and his heart were his, and he had simply never been able to share them before, or to partake in someone else's. But now…

He shifted Sora so that he could see her face as he spoke, knowing that he was treading into delicate ground, and that he would need every cue he could get from her. "Of course I want you." He laughed, but the sound came out humorless and desperate. "I think 'need' is probably closer," he admitted, and Sora's hands immediately cupped his cheeks. She kissed him, and he was so tempted to let go of his restraint, tip her into her bed, and let this follow its natural course. He fought to pry his mouth away from hers, from that pool of darkness and heat that turned his brain into a sizzling pile of mush, knowing that he would give in at any moment otherwise.

One of Sora's hands closed around his and pressed his palm to her chest. The other pulled on his shoulder, a tacit order to lay down with her on the bed. Something short circuited in Matt's brain as his fingers tensed against her breast, indenting the pliant flesh. Distantly, he recalled that there was something he really needed to say, but that thought fizzled out at the look in Sora's eyes. _I'm yours. Take me. _It was the kind of thing that she wasn't really the type to say, at least not this early in their relationship, but she could sure as hell communicate the sentiment.

He would later find that he had no memory of taking his pants and underwear off, although he could picture stripping Sora down in perfect detail. At first, he didn't see much of anything, despite his desire to do so. As soon as she was naked, Sora clung to him, and he provided the kiss she so clearly wanted, allowing his hands to explore her chest, her waist, her rear. Their bodies collided, flesh on flesh, and he groaned at the new sensation. It was tactile delight from head to toe, and goosebumps popped up all over him, despite the fact that it seemed far too warm in the dorm. Matt completely lost track of everything, as drunk on her as he was on alcohol, unable to manage a coherent thought until Sora spread and lifted her legs beneath him. They both gasped as his arousal slid against her sex, and that whimper finally made its way out of him. She was hot, soft, and slightly slick, and being against her was much more stimulating than he would have imagined. _God, if just being against the outside feels like this… _

"M-Matt… Please…" Sora lifted her hips, and Matt bit his lower lip fiercely as pressure built up between his body and the entrance to hers. If he just leaned forward, he could have what he so keenly desired, and yet… Something was nagging at him, trying to work its way through his arousal and intoxication. He knew it was important, and he knew Sora's safety was somehow involved, and that thought had him stalling, kissing her as he tried to pinpoint the problem.

He forced himself to slowly go through what he knew about sex, starting at the basics, and the answer immediately moved into the forefront of his mind. "I don't have any protection on me," he muttered, lifting his face from Sora's. Her eyes widened, and she rubbed a hand slowly over her forehead, as if to clear out the indentations there.

"I… I don't have any, either." Her palm moved over her eyes, blocking them from view. "You're right. You're right. Oh, Matt, I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-"

"You weren't," Matt said gently, moving his hips away from hers. "And neither was I." He eased himself onto his side, running a hand over her chest as he went, admiring it all the while. It was a wonderful distraction from his disappointment. Her breasts weren't large, but the shapes were delectable, so round and perky…

"Matt. Matt! Hello?" Matt blinked as a hand waved in front of his face, then smirked and looked Sora in the eye.

"I'm sorry. I was distracted by a gorgeous woman." He paused, giving Sora enough time to smile and flick his cheek with a fingertip. She shifted to her side and molded herself to him, and Matt knew that he had to say his bit now before they ended up right back where they were a moment ago. "I… I know Tai keeps condoms in our room. I could grab one, but first… Sora, don't get me wrong. I want to do this."

Matt paused and tried to collect his thoughts, which were so difficult to string together at the moment. "But we're so drunk, and we're virgins… I'm not saying that we have to do this in a high end hotel, or on the beach, or something cheesy like that, but… I would like to remember every moment of it, and I'm not sure that I will when I'm this smashed." He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his voice, so that he wouldn't strain the ear beside his lips. "We don't have to wait long. Hell, we can do this tomorrow, if you want. But please… I need to be in complete control of myself when this happens, especially the first time." He shifted uncomfortably, then forced his final thought out. It was something Matt really wanted Sora to know, despite the discomfort and embarrassment that saying it caused. "You're… you're important to me, Sora. Incredibly important. So… So, please."

Sora went slightly stiff against him, and Matt frowned over her shoulder, hoping that he hadn't frustrated her too much. After all, it was obvious from his contact with her lower body that she was in want of release. She buried her face in his neck and exhaled slowly, and Matt gently ran his hand over her back, exploring the contours there.

"You're right. I know you are. And it means a lot to me that you're thinking of those things, Matt. But…" A small, soft hand ran over his chest, and he heard her sighing, a sound of mixed admiration and vexation. Matt separated from her just enough to give her a view of his wicked, boyish smile. Some unnamed instinct within him sharpened at the faint look of nerves and anticipation that flashed across Sora's face.

"I didn't say we had to just roll over and fall asleep," he murmured. His hand slid from her back to her side, coming to a stop on her hip, pushing it towards him. A tiny squeak popped out of her, so faint that he barely heard it. For some reason, that sound stroked his libido even further, and his fingers shifted automatically towards her rear, squeezing it, pressing her front against his arousal. It occurred to him that he felt like some sort of predator, focusing all of himself on capturing his tiny, defenseless prey, except that the end goal was most certainly not to ingest her. To engulf her, to make her his, to hear her moaning under him… That was what he wanted. He eased himself away from her and moved into a sitting position, monitoring her carefully, moving slowly towards her lower body.

Sora lifted herself with an elbow, eying him with that delightfully uncertain expression. "What are you suggesting?"

Matt kept his hesitation carefully hidden. He wasn't sure he had the balls to say 'I want to eat you out,' or the skill to make it sound natural. Instead, he looked her in the eye, knowing that she had a weakness for that, and gently lifted her leg. He pressed a trail of kisses down her inner thigh, grinning wolfishly as he felt gooseflesh blossoming beneath his lips. She was squirming by the time he approached the most intimate part of her. He shot her a final look, hoping for an indication of permission, but her head was already tilted back, and her hands were reaching for his head. Her fingers curled up in his hair, pushing him down slightly. _Well, alright then. I can take a hint when it's applied with a sledge hammer._

Even so, he moved his hands towards her sex slowly, giving her time to twitch away or protest, and also giving himself a moment to steel his nerves. She lifted her body towards the head of her bed, giving him room to sprawl out and make himself as comfortable as he could. Then, finally, his fingers landed on her labia, and he swallowed hard at the contact. She had dark hair, but it was short and tended, which was fortunate for someone who was about to put his mouth there. _But first things first… _Matt eased her apart, revealing the pinkish-red flesh in the middle.

"D-don't… Don't stare at it so much," Sora protested. One of Matt's eyebrows flew up, and he grinned without willing it.

"Oh? Because you're embarrassed, or because you want me to do something else?" He caught Sora's look of frustrated outrage, and, like a little idiot, he laughed and lightly pressed a finger to the most sensitive part of her, rubbing gently. The tension slipped out of her body like magic, along with a breathy exclamation. A thrilling jolt of desire and pleasure passed through Matt. _Oh, this is going to be fun._

"You really shouldn't be embarrassed," he continued, knowing all the while that he was teasing too much. What could he do? He was too drunk to filter his thoughts properly. "You're beautiful. Actually, I didn't know, but… It looks kind of like an orchid. Just a little." He nodded towards her comforter, which was covered with orchids, then the delicate purple flowers on her desk. "Subliminal messaging?"

"_Matt…!_" He flinched slightly at the bite in Sora's tone. _Ooookay, old son, I think you've made your point. Whatever the hell it was. Best to give her what she wants before you get kicked out, possibly butt naked. _And so, he moved his hands out of the way and bent over her, separating her legs more to ease his access.

As he lowered his head, he began to notice her scent. It was unusual, unlike anything he had smelled before, a strange combination of earthy, musky, and sour. Foreign, but certainly not bad, although he couldn't say it immediately appealed to him, either. He ran his tongue down her labia, warming her to his touch, and her hips bucked at the contact, knocking his forehead into her inner thigh.

"Did I hurt you?" he demanded, baffled and slightly panicked by her sudden movement.

"No, no. S-sorry," she whispered. "It's just- I guess I'm nervous. No one's ever…" She trailed off uncertainly. Her body had gone tense again, and Matt made a soothing, shushing noise.

"Relax, Sora. Let me know right away if I do something that hurts or that you don't like. I won't do anything that you don't want, alright? I promise." Sora looked at him for a long moment, then nodded and exhaled slowly, settling back down against her pillows. Matt waited until her muscle strain disappeared, then moved his lips against her, starting with less sensitive areas, slowly working his way towards the most receptive spot.

Sora seemed to find the new sensations a bit overwhelming at first, and she kept shying away from everything he did. She adjusted quickly, though, and Matt focused on learning her body language. When she twitched and pulled back slightly, he tried something else, remembering to avoid whatever had caused that reaction. Sometimes, she would sigh and twitch her hips towards his face, and sometimes her hands would appear in his hair, encouraging him to keep doing whatever he was up to. Finally, when he was sure he understood her signals, he brushed the engorged bit of tissue at the top of her sex, and she gasped and lifted herself towards him. _Well, that seems to do nicely, _Matt thought, grinning into her flesh.

For a minute or so, every pass of his tongue had her reacting strongly, curling her fingers in his hair, making amazing little moaning sounds, but eventually he realized that he needed to add something else into the mix to keep her in that delicious place of heightened interest. Reluctantly, he pushed through the haze of intoxication around his mind and dipped into his past, trying to remember the unsolicited sexual advice that Tai had forced onto him during high school.

Matt used to protest and ignore Tai when he started lording his greater sexual experience over him. Then, one day, he overheard a flock of girls whispering about something that Tai's first girlfriend had told them. A few months later, he heard something similar from friends of Tai's second girlfriend. Well, girlfriend might have been too strong a label in that case, but either way, suddenly Matt started paying attention to Tai. And he remembered, just in case there really was any merit to the gossip.

_You should start slow and easy. Warm the girl up, just like when you exercise. Too much too fast can hurt. If you're not sure if she's turned on enough, try going down on her. Different girls like different things, but if you don't know what she's into yet, you can just draw letters against her with your tongue, you know, going through the alphabet. _At which point he began to smirk and point out which letters Christie preferred, and Matt threw a workbook at his head.

_Alright, Tai. I'm trusting you, you pain in the ass. So, uh… Capital A, I guess? _Matt went on like that, repeating letters she responded to well until the reaction diminished, then moving on. It wasn't long before her smell grew muskier, and her sex went from flushed to overheated. Matt couldn't see much from this angle, but he devoured what was available to him, like her flat stomach, the faint impression of her hipbones beneath her skin, and her breasts. He extended an arm and caressed one, and her fingers immediately closed around his hand, twitching slightly as they clung to him. Those sounds started up again in full force, increasing in volume and desperation, jumping around from low pitched moans to high, quick exclamations. His jaw was starting to ache, and his mouth was full of a salty, slightly acidic taste, but he didn't notice. He had never been so turned on in his life, and his whole body burned, his chest heaved as if he were running a marathon. Without his willing it, his free hand moved to his arousal- something he certainly wouldn't have done sober, but Sora didn't seem to notice, anyway.

His intensity increased as physical pleasure twined around mental stimulation. Sora began to shudder and breathe heavily, and the tissues in his mouth began to tremble slightly. She sounded almost incoherent, but he was fairly sure she was saying his name. Then the words faded into a jumbled exclamation, and her hips began to move earnestly. Her body shook, and Matt watched hungrily, aware that he was seeing, feeling, hearing, smelling, and even _tasting_ her climax as it formed, peaked, and ebbed.

For a moment, she lay frozen on her bed, her muscles caught in place. Then, slowly, her legs relaxed and collapsed against the mattress, and Matt lay down beside her, wrapping his arms around her, ignoring the thin film of sweat on her body. She nuzzled him and sighed, a content, slightly dazed sound. Smiling, Matt lifted her enough to extract the blanket and sheet from beneath her, then covered her body. "Better?" he murmured, kissing her forehead. In all honesty, he felt like he was going to spontaneously combust any second, but he wasn't going to ask for anything when she was so clearly worn out from a long night of partying and romance. Even as she smiled at him, he could see the mixture of warmth and fatigue in her eyes.

_But damn, I'm going to have the worst case of blue balls ever, _he thought regretfully. _Small price to pay, though, I guess…_

"That was amazing," she whispered, edging closer for a kiss. Matt wanted to give her a slow, lingering one, but he was aware that his mouth tasted a bit off, so he made it quick and light.

"I thought so, too." Her eyes widened a little, and he gave her his best boyish grin.

"Really? You didn't mind?" Matt stared at her for a moment, then shook his head slowly, chuckling faintly.

"Mind? Sora. You're crazy if you think I didn't love every second of that." His hands ran slowly down her body, not with heat, just with affection and warmth. He began think aloud, trusting her with thoughts, and he wondered if she would recognize the significance of that trust. "Not to sound like a jerk, but… I probably could have done things like this in high school. I could never fully explain why I didn't, even to myself. Part of it was just that I'm private, that I don't… really connect all that easily to others. But, whatever held me back… I'm grateful. Whatever happens between us, Sora, I'm glad that I waited, I'm glad that you're the first person I'm…" he hesitated, unsure of how to finish, not wanting to imply that he was guaranteed anything more, even though he was fairly certain that their relationship was coming along well. "Just… Thank you, Sora."

Matt cleared his throat and began to get off the bed, intending to turn the light off and come back, but Sora took hold of his wrist. "Matt…" She tugged, gently pulling him on top of her, cupped his face with her hands, and kissed him deeply. He felt that moment when she paused, no doubt surprised by the taste of herself in his mouth, but she shrugged it off and kept going. Truthfully, Matt kind of wanted to stop, because her kiss was growing more heated by the second, and he was trying to calm down. But he wasn't about to pull away from this girl, not for any reason.

Finally, she broke off from him, then looked him straight in the eye. Usually, this was an advantage that he had over her, but now he found himself helplessly frozen in her gaze, although why it had extra weight at the moment was beyond him. "I feel the same way. Thank you, Matt. And, even though it put me out a little tonight… I think tomorrow I'm going to be very grateful that you did what you did earlier. Not many guys would do that, especially drunk."

Matt waved a hand dismissively, not knowing how to respond. Sora smiled, no doubt sensing his embarrassment, and pushed lightly on his shoulders, leading him to lay down beside her. Then she began to stand, and Matt put a hand on her waist. "I'll hit the light, Sora."

"You just relax," she returned, and Matt decided the topic was too insignificant for an argument, especially when she was already half up. But instead of getting off the bed, she bent over his body, just as he had bent over her a few minutes ago.

"Sora…?" he asked, tilting his head. Her fingers began to move slowly towards his maleness, and he watched in shocked silence as they brushed against him.

"Oh!" she murmured, closing her palms around him. _Yeah, oh, _Matt thought, clenching his jaws to keep a much less polite exclamation from popping out. "I didn't expect it to be so _soft_. Not that it's not hard- obviously- I mean- The skin's really smooth." His hands clenched as she stared at him and hesitantly ran her hands along his length. Suddenly, he understood her shyness earlier- it was a bit alarming to have someone focusing so much attention on an area that he had never shown anyone before, and, like him, she lacked the experience to banish that awkwardness by creating pleasure.

"You don't have to do this, Sora. I know you're tired. You can sleep." Of course, he was very interested in where this would lead, but he didn't want her to force herself, or to have his pride wounded by her passing out midway.

Sora tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Of course I don't _have _to. If I thought for a second that you thought I _had _to, I would kick you out. I want to. So, unless _you_ don't want this…"

Matt raised his hands, holding them palm out. _You wouldn't expect it, but she's got kind of a bite to her. I wonder if it's because she's drunk? _"I didn't mean it badly."

Sora sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Yes. Yes, I know. I'm sorry. I'm just… I'm still nervous. And a little embarrassed. But I'm fine," she finished quickly, no doubt seeing the concern in his expression. "I'm sorry if I'm not very good, I've never-"

Matt ran a hand soothingly through her hair, fighting to produce a warm smile. The feeling of her hands on him was distracting, to say the least. "We're both new to this. There's no pressure here, alright?"

Sora sighed, a peaceful, happy noise, then kissed his shoulder. "Just the two of us enjoying each other."

"Mmm." It was a sound of agreement, but also a sound of bliss, resulting from Sora trailing her fingers around his glans.

And that was exactly what they did for a while longer, until they fell onto Sora's bed in a tangled, exhausted heap.

**Author's Note:** I can practically hear the protests from that abrupt ending. It can't be helped. For one, I have a terrible case of writer's block right now. I think it's just because I'm so tired from moving and painting and trying to organize the house. I can't begin to tell you how much stuff I've donated to Goodwill over the last two weeks _ Also, my cat took the move really badly, which was frightening because of her age (she's well outlived the average house cat lifespan). We ran her to the vet after finding bloody waste all over the house when we came home from work, but she ended up being more or less fine. Also also, I'll be honest, I didn't feel like writing smut anymore XD That's enough smut for now. So I just made it clear that there was reciprocation, because I see Sora as the type to want to reciprocate, and moved on. This chapter's waaaay too long anyway, for what it is.

You may have found it strange that Matt and Sora could feel so awkward with each other, given the way they were all up in each other's heads and business all night, but believe you me… It can never be anything BUT awkward when two virgins are trying to be intimate for the first time. They got there in the end, hey?

But oh my gosh, the TEASING. I am such a sucker for couples who torment each other a little.

I was going to write about Tai, but my block is too heavy. I think I'm going to hint at what happened with him next time, instead of writing a full scene for it. I really want to get what happened with Amy and Jerry out in the open.

So hopefully I can write normally again soon. I'm sorry for the quality of this chapter, I know it jumped around and circled and blah :/ I apologize if this was too much or too little or too smutty or not hot enough or whatever _ I can always delete this if people react badly, lol!

I'm completely uncertain about writing more content like this, so, uh, if you like it, you'll want to speak now and convince me to throw in stuff like this every once in a while. Otherwise, I'll mostly just reference moments like this in passing, except for really key mature moments, ones with heavy plot significance.

I'm fairly sure this was terrible x_x Except that Matt's mental sense of humor makes me totally laugh XD Love that guy.

Anyway, in conclusion, I love my new house, but this whole thing has been kind of an ordeal, and I could use encouragement if you have a moment to spare (and you like my writing, of course, lol).

Thanks for reading! Please look forward to next time, where we FINALLY learn what happened with Jerry (possibly over a few installments, I dunno yet). I'm not going to lie. It's going to be difficult for everyone (but oh, the drama).


	26. Jerry and Amy, Pt 1

**Author's Note: **In which Izzy flips out, and has to deal with Tai right in the middle of a panic attack. I just won't cut that poor boy a break, will I?

Jerry and Amy, Pt 1

It was a day like any other, and Izzy was in his bedroom at home, working at his desktop. It was all very quiet and pleasant, and Izzy was quite enjoying himself, until a loud, piercing scream had him throwing himself out of his chair. It rolled underneath him as he moved, pitching him forward into his closed bedroom door. A sharp exclamation of pain slipped out of him, but it was entirely drowned out by another shriek. The sound was keening, so high and biting that it seemed to vibrate his skull. Izzy had never heard anything like it before, and he hoped he never would again. It was like hearing a heart shattering into a million splintered shards.

Somehow, he managed to get the door open and enter the hallway. Distantly, he noticed that this place wasn't a part of his home. The walls were blank and nondescript, and they seemed to stretch on forever. But that couldn't matter right now; there was obviously someone nearby who needed help. He ran, moving straight ahead, as that was the only option. Before long, the screaming turned into speaking, and Izzy began to hear words, to register a familiar voice.

"Please… No… I don't- I don't- Stop! Please- _Please-_"

Izzy stumbled, nearly falling flat on his face, when he recognized that sweet, lilting voice. A heartbeat passed as shock, fear, and rage tore through his body, and then a strange, deadly clarity overtook him. He nearly doubled his pace, calling out Amy's name all the while, but there was no answer. It felt as if his heart was moving up his throat, and his ears rang with its pounding. It sounded like a war drum, driving him inexorably forward.

Finally, the hallway came to an abrupt end, dumping him in front of a worn wooden door. Izzy grabbed the knob and threw it open, then winced as harsh, yellow artificial light assaulted his eyes. He blinked furiously as his pupils contracted, then took a hasty look around, still crying out to Amy all the while.

When his vision cleared, he noticed cream colored walls made of painted cinder blocks, a desk with twin monitors, and exposed pipes in the ceiling. _A dorm room, _he noted with confusion. Movement on the far side of the room caught his eye, and he turned towards the twin bed by a double set of closets. Amy was lying on her back, flailing against the body on top of her. Sobbing gasps rendered her words unintelligible. A boy was pinning her lower half down with his hips and restraining her wrists. His free hand was clumsily removing his belt.

It didn't occur to Izzy that he had never retaliated in a fight in all of his life, despite having been mildly bullied in his childhood. He didn't stop to consider that he was small, scrawny, and extremely likely to hurt himself just by throwing a punch. All that mattered was getting that bloody bastard as far away from Amy as possible, no matter what the price may be. He threw himself onto the bed, grabbed Amy's attacker by the shoulder, and pulled, moving his fist back all the while.

The boy turned, and Izzy froze when he saw dark, deep set eyes, a heavy brow, and short, blood red hair. His jaw went slack, and he glanced frantically from Amy, who was cowering away from the both of them, to the stranger who wore his face. Then, suddenly, there was a pair of soft, warm hips between his thighs, and his fingers were wrapped around two trembling wrists. His other hand was working the clasp of his belt while his hips pressed down against hers. His hunger for her eclipsed his ability to think, overwrote his very nature.

And, suddenly, he understood: _he _was the one forcing himself on Amy. She didn't want him, and a glance at her ashen face was enough to prove that he had already broken her trust in him. He doubled over, dropping his forehead on hers, and began to gasp frantically. His lungs seemed to be collapsing in his chest, smothering under the weight of his confusion, panic, self-loathing, and pain. His vision blurred, then went black.

For a moment, Izzy genuinely thought that he had somehow died, or at least fainted. He was still gasping in his dorm room bed, and everything was dark, but there was no one under him. In fact, he seemed to be lying on his side, which was odd, as he always slept on his back. And why was it so wonderfully warm beneath the covers? Then he noticed his horrific headache and the dull, drumming pain in his stomach, and he glared at the closet doors in frustrated confusion.

He slowly began to rise, trying to ascertain what was going on, his heart beating wildly all the while. Something shifted against him as he moved, and he swallowed an exclamation when he realized that there was a second person in his bed, and that his arm was wrapped around the intruder. A faint mewling sigh reached his ears, and Izzy rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to hasten their adjustment to the darkness.

Unless he was very much mistaken, there was a girl in his bed. And, unless he was even more mistaken, it was _Amy_. He shifted his body so that a patch of moonlight slipped past him and onto the rest of the bed, then swallowed so hard that he nearly choked.

It was certainly her, sleeping peacefully beside him, breathing slowly and evenly. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the ghostly white lighting, making it immediately obvious that whatever she was wearing was barely providing sufficient cover. Izzy leaned closer and recognized his own robe wrapped around her, falling partially open at the front, giving him a teasing look at her curves. For a split second, it occurred to him that no one would ever know if he opened the robe further and helped himself to an incredible view, but the thought disappeared from his mind as soon as it formed. There were more pressing matters at hand.

_What the deuce happened last night?! _He rubbed his forehead furiously, then gasped at the jarring pain created by the contact. It felt like a tiny man was punching his brain from somewhere inside at regular intervals. Groaning quietly, he dropped his face into his palms and forced himself to think, despite his internal and external distractions.

The events of the evening sped through his mind, as if he were fast forwarding a movie. His breathing hitched as he remembered his chat against the bar wall with Amy, growing increasingly shallow and quick as he worked his way through inviting her to his room. He began to rock his body back and forth on the bed as he realized that they had kissed, and a strangled sound slipped out of him as he acknowledged that it had been much more than touching lips to lips. It was a kind of melding, like slipping entirely past physical barriers and communicating on some mysterious inner frequency. Touching and being touched in ways he didn't- _couldn't_- understand. The things they said to each other, the ways they interacted… He stifled a quiet groan as he remembered how Amy had spread her legs beneath him and eagerly rubbed her sex against his, frantically kissing and stripping him all the while. Those huge brown eyes hovered in his mental vision, brimming with a longing that went far beyond desire.

Izzy stumbled out of his bed, so overwhelmed that he nearly tripped, so distracted that he forgot that Amy was sleeping. He moved towards the center of the room blindly, with no destination or purpose in mind. Somehow, he just needed to move, needed to wander. He glanced at the display of his digital clock and saw that it was a little after four in the morning, and irritation somehow registered through his haze of emotions. What he needed right now was to skate until his legs went wobbly, but the rink wouldn't be open at this hour.

_Sit down, you fool. Do your thinking where you can. _With that thought, Izzy parked himself on his desk chair, crossed his arms, and tilted himself towards his bed. Miraculously, Amy had slept through all that movement, and Izzy watched her, hardly able to believe that she was actually there. The sound of her breathing was faintly audible from the desk, and Izzy listened, fastening his attention to the sound, allowing the simple, peaceful stimulus to soothe him.

_Now. What happened after that kiss? And why would I have such a terrible dream? _A shudder passed over his body, ripping away the thin layer of calm that he had just wrapped around himself. To dream of victimizing her like that… His stomach roiled at the memory, no doubt helped along by his hangover. It felt like something disgusting was wriggling along his guts, winding its way through his intestines. Izzy grit his teeth and forced himself to forget the dream and the nausea for the moment, so that he could remember the rest of the evening.

His encounter with Amy had started moving too far, too fast, and Izzy remembered arriving at a point where he wasn't sure if he could hold back if things went any further. _So I asked her if she was certain that she wanted sex… And… And then what? _His heart began to palpitate, and it reminded him of a ticking bomb, coming closer to an explosion with each painful pulse. _Think, idiot! You don't have any protection- what happened? What did she say? _

But no words, uttered in that airy, trilling voice, came to mind. Instead, he began to remember tears and pathetic, high-pitched whimpers, tense, frozen muscles, eyes widened and trembling with fear. Izzy gagged and threw himself to his feet, grabbing his tiny trashcan as he went. His phone vibrated before he took a step towards the door, and he picked it up automatically. Then he was in the hallway, running towards the nearest bathroom.

Once he was there, he stepped around the puddle of vomit on the middle of the floor without mental comment, threw the door of the nearest stall open, and was violently sick. His entire body shuddered as he tried to remember what happened next. _Did I force myself on her? No, no…! If I did, she wouldn't have stayed in bed with me. I didn't hurt her. I would never!_

_But she was frightened. I frightened her terribly, _his mind whispered, and he shuddered and groaned. A few tears forced their way out of his eyes, compelled by physical discomfort and emotional pain. Then, finally, his heaving ended, and he forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily against the stall for support. He stood there for a moment, ignoring the terrible smells in the bathroom, trying to understand how he could have scared her. _She wanted that kiss. I'm certain. _It felt a bit like hubris to say it so bluntly, but he clearly remembered her eagerness, her malleability to his every suggestion. So, where did he go wrong? Was he forgetting something crucial?

_This is punishment. This is my due for drinking and giving into romantic inclinations. I thought I had learned my lesson…! How much of a fool can a man be? And to hurt an innocent girl in the process… _There was a part of him that wanted to break down and cry like a helpless child, but he somehow stifled the urge, turning his focus to his phone for a distraction. As he slipped out of the bathroom, he saw that Tai had called him, and he tapped send before he could convince himself otherwise. With any luck, Tai would occupy his mind with some minor problem for a few minutes, providing him with a temporary reprieve.

Tai shouted his name like an enraged madman after the first ring, and Izzy blinked and held his cell a foot away from his face until the screaming died down. "Hello, Tai. Could you repeat that? You seem to have rendered me temporarily deaf." Banter, wit. Temper tantrums from volatile peers. Normal, calming things that marginally cleared his head. A breath slipped out from between his lips as he made his way to the deserted student lounge and sat on a tattered, stained sofa, dropping his trash can beside him.

"Fuck you!" Tai cried, and Izzy managed half a grin. Normally, such disrespect would annoy him, but he was coming to see that this was simply Tai's way. At any rate, his rage was almost amusing when sampled from a safe distance. "Where the hell did you take Amy?"

Izzy leaned back against the couch, something he typically would never due, owing to its questionable level of cleanliness, and stared blankly at the ceiling. "Amy and I both sent you text messages explaining that I was escorting her back to the dorm. That's precisely what I did. I can only assume that she's sleeping." He was, of course, treading carefully around the topic of exactly_ where_ Amy was sleeping. As miserable as he was at the moment, he would still prefer to not have his head bludgeoned in by an enraged quasi-brother.

"Like anyone's sleeping right now," Tai growled, and Izzy raised an eyebrow at the light panels above him. "Matt and Sora ditched me. So did Mimi and Joe. We all know what they're up to." A frustrated snort registered over the phone, faintly audible over the sound of traffic and laughter. "And then I find this message saying that even _Amy _left me… With you!"

_Ah, delightful. Sexually frustrated, betrayed, worried, and jealous. And I, of course, was the only one foolish enough to take his call. _"She was tired, Tai, and she assumed that you weren't interested in returning yet." Truthfully, he was putting words in Amy's mouth, but they didn't seem like much of a stretch, so he went ahead and said them.

There was shuffling sound, then the opening and slamming of a door. "Listen. No offense. I mean, you're alright, but I don't trust anyone but Matt with Amy. Take her to me or him the next time she wants to go home."

"She asked me to take her home," Izzy said, gritting his teeth. Part of him knew better than to argue with Tai, particularly when he was full of alcohol, but the implication that Amy couldn't make her own decisions irritated him. And something about that bothered him, but he was too upset and hungover to know what. _Maybe the trouble is that we're discussing the very topic I wanted to forget, _he thought darkly.

A dismissive snort, then a long, gravelly sigh. "Well, whatever, I guess. I just made it back myself. Been callin' everyone for so long, I didn't even realize how close I was. She'll be in Matt's bed, right? Since he's with Sora." Izzy grimaced and half stood, noting the bitterness that was fouling up Tai's mood even more. "If she has a single complaint about you, I swear to God, I'll be knocking your door down in five minutes."

Izzy stood and began to aimlessly dart around the room, feeling far too panicked to sit still. "Ah- Ah, well, no. She's not in your room." He could almost see Tai's puzzled, annoyed frown, and he smiled nervously in response to that mental image.

"So she's in her bed? I'm sleeping in Sora's bed? Great. That's fuckin' awkward. Maybe I'll just nudge Amy over, she won't wake up anyway…"

"Er- Well- She actually asked me to…to allow her to sleep…elsewhere."

There was a long pause that somehow caused a string of shivers to pass over Izzy's body. "Alright. So I'm heading straight to your damn door, then," Tai said, and the forced cheerfulness in his voice sounded more ominous than his earlier shouting.

_I'm dead, _Izzy realized, coming to a halt in the middle of the room. Something akin to hysteria overtook him, possibly because he knew he had no way out of this. Why hadn't he thought of this eventuality earlier? _I'm dead. I had just as well have some fun with it, I suppose. _"Do be careful when you break the door in, Tai. Amy's trying to sleep in there."

He expected more shouting and swearing, but all he heard was a sharp intake of breath, then the faint beeping that announced the end of a call. And, somehow, that was so much worse. Although Izzy didn't understand Tai's personality as intimately as he did Amy's, he sensed that the lack of obvious signs of temper indicated a more dangerous inner state. The yelling and bravado went along with normal anger, were outbursts that helped Tai retain some level of control. The silence, focus, and action… That was what someone saw before they were knocked unconscious.

Izzy grabbed his trashcan and ran back to his door, stumbling once or twice along the way. Although he hated to wake Amy, he knew that he would require her intercession to escape this encounter unscathed, so he flicked the lights on and sat on his bed, dropping the trash can back under his desk as he went. "Amy," he said, shaking her gently. "Amy?"

Her facial muscles pinched up for a moment, and she made a groaning sound and turned away from him, like a grumpy child on a weekday morning. Normally, Izzy would have smiled and investigated this behavior, but he wasn't exactly at his leisure at the moment. "Amy, please. I'm sorry. I'm aware that you're tired and hungover, but Tai just called, and he found out that you're sleeping in my room, and- well- he isn't pleased."

Amy blinked at him a few times, and her eyes grew less and less blank with each pass of her lids. He could clearly discern the moment when she identified him, then her surroundings. She raised herself into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes, then pushed her tangled hair away from her face. "Izzy…?" she asked, glancing nervously about the room.

_I don't have time for this. Tai will be here any second. _Izzy leaned closer and took hold of her upper arms, hoping that the contact and proximity would soothe at least one of them. "Yes. You're in my room, and yes, we shared my bed these last few hours." He paused for a moment, unable to take the widening of her eyes and the flaring of her nostrils in stride. If she regretted what had passed between them, it would hurt him more than he cared to admit, even to himself. And the sense of loss would be unbearable.

Amy cleared her throat, then glanced away from him, wringing her hands all the while. "Are… Are you still drunk?" she asked, directing the question to her knees. Frowning, Izzy slid his hands down, until they were wrapped around hers. _What could she possibly be thinking?_

"No. I'm painfully sober, I'm afraid." He glanced nervously over his shoulder, realizing that he had forgotten to lock the door in his haste. He tried to slide off of the bed, but Amy's fingers were locked around his, and he was hesitant to break any contact from her, since their status felt so tenuous at the moment. She was still staring into her lap, looking fragile and despondent. Her hands were cold, but slightly sticky with sweat.

"Do you… Do you want me to go back to my room? I'm sure Sora and Matt are… I don't think they would mind if I just slipped into my bed at this point." Izzy frowned at the curtain of fine, tangled hair separating the two of them. His instinct was to say something along the lines of, _No, I rather need you at the moment, actually, _but something about her vulnerable tone and posture had him interpreting her words, despite the threat that was moving towards him.

There was some significant sputtering in his brain, due to its recent emotional battering, but it eventually landed on a conclusion: _She's unsure of whether she's still welcome here, now that I'm no longer inebriated. _That doubt and uncertainty hurt him more than he could have anticipated, and he had to fight to keep a grimace from forming. If he was going to have any hope of soothing her, he needed to appear composed. He gently extricated a hand from hers, then brushed her hair over her shoulder, giving himself a view of her face. She tilted her head away from him, and he moved in closer to compensate. The muscles around her eyes were tight and drawn, making her look worn and troubled.

He wanted to say something romantic and sweet, but his throat completely closed in on itself at the thought. Revealing his feelings and desires went utterly against his nature, but he knew he had to act now, or risk losing the progress his drunken self had made. And so, he forced a word out, then another, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth all the while, as if he were watching a frightening film. "Stay. Please."

There was a pause, and then a faint pressure on his forehead, followed by the sound of a shuddering exhalation. Izzy opened his eyes and found that Amy's face was right up against his. He could feel the ragged, quick rhythm of her breathing, sharp sounds that normally accompanied crying. And, sure enough, there were tears dripping rapidly down her face.

"Amy!" he cried, cupping her cheeks. "Please- why are you crying?" His fingers desperately wiped at the moisture, as if drying her face quickly enough would banish whatever was hurting her. _Why does everything I do seem to end in tears for her? _

"I'm okay, I just- I was afraid you would ask me to leave-" She might have said more, but the door crashed open at that moment, and Tai threw himself into the room, like a bull storming into a matador's ring. Amy startled severely, throwing her arms around Izzy and pulling him in. _Oh, Amy, _Izzy thought, offhandedly monitoring the progress of his heart towards his stomach._ Must you really begin crying and clinging the moment Tai appears?_

The three of them stared at each other for a second, and, for the sake of his pride, Izzy could only hope that he was making his normal disinterested expression. "Tai. So good to see you," he drawled. It was foolish to bait him, he knew, but Amy's robe was far too open in the front, and Izzy discretely closed it while Tai turned his flaying glance towards him.

"Hi, Tai," Amy chirped, wiping at her cheeks. She tilted her head and smiled sweetly, but Izzy could feel the tightness of her muscles. _She's embarrassed and wary, _Izzy realized. "Is everything alright? You look kind of worked up."

A muscle twitched visibly in Tai's cheek, and Amy inched closer to Izzy. Her hand found his, and he squeezed it gently, trying to reassure her and find reassurance. _She'll know how to navigate this. Best to give her point._

Tai's hands curled into fists with enough force to make the veins in his arms stand out beneath his skin. "Amy," he said at length, and there was an odd laboring effect to his voice, as if he found speaking difficult. "What in the hell is going on here?"

Izzy kept his eyebrow from cocking through pure strength of will. In all honesty, he was impressed; he had half expected an immediate fist to the face, followed by questions sometime in the next week, when he finally regained consciousness. Perhaps his proximity to Amy, or the way she was slowly working her hand up his arm, was saving him. Either way, he slowly released a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding.

Amy made an uncomfortable humming sound, then began tapping her fingers up and down his inner arm. "Tai. I love you, and your concern really means a lot to me. But… Well, what I do with my boyfriend is, you know, kind of… My business? Right?"

A jolt when through Izzy as he registered her words. She turned to him, as if in search of confirmation, and he gave her a jerky, robotic nod. _Could she really want to be my girlfriend, despite what happened before we fell asleep? It's possible that she's merely appeasing Tai to soothe his temper. _But as he considered that possibility, he began to remember what happened after Amy's panic attack.

The first recollection was pure pain, and his heart seemed to twist in his chest like a wrung dishrag. He had frightened Amy so deeply that she lost track of where she was and who she was with, and she kept asking for Tai and Matt, unwittingly shoving more and more blades into his heart. _But I was to blame. She told me at the bar that she was hesitant to interact romantically while under the influence. I didn't heed her request, and it hurt both of us._

But, on the other hand, he had a clear memory of watching that fear and hurt drip away from her expression, of watching her eyes widen and shine with happiness and relief. _When did that happen? And why?_

And then he heard it in his mind, with the clarity of an expensive sound system:

_This really isn't going away tomorrow, is it?_

_I would strongly prefer that it not._

_I know I said no kissing until we're sober, but… Can I have just a little one?_

Despite the threat literally looming over him, Izzy's eyes drifted shut as he worked his way through that kiss. In all honestly, he thought it was a bad idea at the time, and he had almost tried to argue her out of it, but something about the hope and vulnerability in her voice had convinced him to lightly place his lips on hers. As soon as she reached for him and sighed so sweetly, he was a prisoner to her every suggestion, and she somehow pulled him into her, and he felt her regard and affection for him. The strength of those feelings, and his strange ability to sense them, shocked him to the core, and he froze against her. By the time he came back to himself, she was sound asleep snuggled up to him.

_This woman… How does she jump from emotion to emotion so quickly? One moment, she's terrified of me, and the next, she wants me to kiss her to sleep. What thoughts are swirling about in the mist behind those eyes? Her mind is some sort of uncharted otherworld, as far as I can tell. _He smiled wryly at his lap._ She's the best kind of puzzle; that which can never be completely solved. But one thing, at least, is clear; she's forgiven me for frightening her, and, somehow, she's still interested in me. _Relief overtook him, gripping him so strongly that he shuddered from head to foot.

Tai stared at the two of them for a long moment, giving Izzy time to work through all of those thoughts. Finally, the athlete grit his teeth and shoved his fingers through his hair, then made an annoyed sound as they got caught in it. "You don't _have _a boyfriend, and you're not the type to hook up." He set his eyes, hard and glaring, onto Izzy's, and the redhead had to fight to keep his expression neutral. Even so, a bead of sweat worked its way down his forehead, stinging his eye, but he didn't wipe at it. "You're dead," he breathed, his voice low and menacing. "You're _dead_."

Tai moved so fast that Izzy had no time to react before he was a foot away on the bed. Amy must have anticipated an explosion, because she somehow managed to get her body in between the two boys, despite Tai's breathtaking speed. He stopped just short of ramming into her. "Tai," she said calmly, cupping his cheek with a hand. "I _do _have a boyfriend, and we didn't have sex, not that it's any of your business. Would you please calm down and listen to me?"

Izzy glanced uneasily from one cousin to the other, seeing an indulgent sort of patience on Amy's end and wild anger and alarm on Tai's. _Good Lord, I hope she knows what she's doing. He looks like a lion defending the pride. _

Tai calmed down by painfully slow degrees, until he plopped himself into a normal sitting position. "Talk," he grunted, crossing his arms. "And you shut up."

"Don't say that to Izzy!" Amy cried, squeezing the redhead's arm. Izzy fought down a smile. It always amused him when Amy bickered with her cousin, owing to her normal demure behavior. His amusement fled as she hissed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Jove, I have such a headache… And my stomach…"

"Hangover. Get her some water and pain killers." Izzy was reluctant to move away from Amy, knowing that Tai was less likely to try to hurt him if she was near, but he seemed relatively calm now. He stood and took Tai's orders, shuffling about in the room while Amy began to speak again.

"Well- I don't know what to say!" Amy's voice was shrill and embarrassed. "I, I've liked Izzy for a while now, and I guess we ended up talking about it at the bar, and then Matt was in my room, and your room smells like a locker room, and Izzy offered to let me sleep in Joe's bed, and then I asked him if he wouldn't mind my sharing his bed, and…" She held her hands out and shrugged, pausing to nibble her lower lip. "Uh, here we are."

_I've liked him for a while now… _Izzy swallowed hard and busied himself with opening his closet door, grateful for the excuse to turn his back on the others. Those words made him feel jumpy and flustered, and he didn't really know how to process it.

Tai's voice sounded wearily, and Izzy fastened his attention to the distraction. "So, this was your choice?"

"Absolutely," Amy returned blithely.

"Your drunken choice, anyhow," Tai snorted. Izzy frowned, insulted by Tai's implication that alcohol was required to make him desirable, but said nothing. "But you're sober now, right? Are you still cool with it?"

Izzy nearly dropped his bottle of aspirin when he turned and saw the color spreading across Amy's cheeks. She smiled, shyly at first, but then uncontrollably. "Y-yeah," she managed at last, pressing the tips of her fingers together and partially hiding her face behind them. Something lurched violently in Izzy's stomach.

_She's adorable. She has an inherent brand of sweet, genuine charm. What's going to become of me? I'll be completely at her beck and call in a matter of weeks. _Amy turned her glance to him, then exhaled sharply and turned away, as if she found him so wonderful that she needed to avert her eyes. _Days. Hours, _Izzy amended, trying to combat the shaking of his hands.

Tai remained quiet for a few seconds, then leaned forward, his shoulders sagging, as if under an invisible weight. "Fine," he muttered, closing a hand around Amy's. "Fine. I'll let it go till morning. I'm fuckin' beat, anyway. C'mon, take some aspirin, and let's get to sleep."

"Okay, Tai," Amy said, punctuating it with an enormous yawn. Izzy turned his face towards the bottle in his hands, hoping to hide his pinched muscles. Why was Tai acting so high and mighty with Amy? What else could there possibly be to discuss? And what, was Amy planning to meekly follow her cousin out of the room and leave him here? _I suppose I should expect to still be secondary to Tai for the time being, since they've grown up together. I'm sure I'm still be behind Matt, and perhaps a few others, as well. _But, despite that logic, his heart felt oddly heavy and raw. He suddenly realized that, while her world was small, it was still larger than his, and that somehow made him feel a bit vulnerable.

Nodding, Tai slipped off the bed and tugged lightly on Amy. She glanced at their connected hands and produced a puzzled frown. "C'mon," Tai repeated, looking rather careworn. "I'm tired. Let's go."

Amy tilted her head like a confused puppy. "Go? I'm staying here."

Izzy's knees went a little weak, and he navigated around the bed and moved towards his desk chair, falling onto it gratefully. _She didn't even consider leaving. She's surprised by the suggestion. _

Tai slowly released her and stepped back. "Uh, okay?" he said, sounding slightly shocked. "Later, then." He made his way to the door with a dazed expression, and Izzy realized that he felt bad for him. _Stop being so ridiculous. He was threatening my life earlier, and, although he did so out of concern for Amy, it certainly didn't endear him to me. _Regardless, that awkward feeling remained, and he tapped his foot in an unsettled manner.

"I love you, Tai," Amy called, and Tai poked his head back into the room for a moment. He managed a weak smile that no one was going to buy, said good night, and closed the door.

Sighing, Izzy poured some aspirin into his palm and set aside a dose for the both of them. Amy watched him as he took out a bottle of water and offered it to her. "That was… interesting," he murmured as she swallowed the pills.

"I'm sorry. He's worried… And kind of jealous. You know, like how a dad gets when his little girl starts dating." She took a long swig from the bottle and handed it back over. "Not that I would know…," she trailed, resettling the sheets and comforter around her body.

Izzy mulled over her words as he downed his own pain killers, locked the door, and turned off the lights. _I believe this may be what is referred to as 'daddy issues,' _he realized. He made his way to the bed by moonlight, and Amy moved back the covers for him. He thanked her and tried to make himself comfortable in the limited space.

Although cuddling had felt natural enough before they fell asleep, it was very awkward now, and the tight cast of Amy's muscles seemed to indicate that she was struggling, as well. "Are you sure you're alright like this?" Izzy asked, trying to find someplace to put his arm. _Would it be permissible to touch her? Would it be prudent? Did I even want to? _"We still have the option of preparing Joe's bed for you."

There was a long pause, and Izzy felt more and more despondent as it stretched on. Although he hated to admit it, he wanted to be comfortable with her, wanted to be able to share close quarters with her. But it felt so strange and unsettling now that he was sober, and, worst of all, he could somehow sense trepidation building up in her, despite their lack of physical contact. "I guess this _is_ kind of weird," Amy said at last. "Do you want me to move to the other bed?"

"I…" Izzy's pride reared up, demanding that he ask her to do just that, to kick her out of the personal space that a man ought to reserve for himself, as far as he was concerned. But there was just enough moonlight in the room to illuminate her wide, hopeful eyes, and he swallowed the words inching up his throat. "That's really not necessary, is it?" His tone was gruff and embarrassed, but Amy smiled shyly in response.

"Umm, okay. Do you want to talk about stuff? Or do you want to sleep?"

Izzy almost laughed. Right now, a reprieve from all of these demanding, uncomfortable emotions was more far more valuable to him than a massive lump of gold. Dredging up more accursed feelings was the last thing he wanted. "The latter, if it's all the same to you."

Her loud sigh of relief had him grinning. "Good night, then," she said. She stared at him for a moment, then closed her eyes, but Izzy could feel her fingers drumming uneasily against the bed.

_Oh, for- Be a man, you fool. Can't you overcome your pride and offer her some sign that she's welcome and desired here? _He gathered himself, then leaned into her, placed an arm around her waist, and lightly pressed his lips to her forehead. It was a brief, stiff offering of affection, but most of the tension seeped out of Amy's body in the seconds that followed. As time went on, her breathing became deep and even, but he lay awake for a long time, unable to relax, unable to process everything that had happened. His heart was a throbbing ball of pain and discomfort in his chest, scolding him with each beat for his abandonment of his stoicism.

Eventually, the tiny, pale hand lying between their faces twitched, drawing Izzy's eye. His mental floundering came to a halt as he really looked at the woman lying beside him. _The circumstances weren't ideal, _he acknowledged, _but… But somehow, I'll rectify all of this. _An unfamiliar sensation, warm and sweet, spread outward from Izzy's core, and he lifted a hand and settled it on top of hers. Finally, he yielded to his fatigue, and he allowed himself to drift off on that pleasant feeling.

**Author's Note: **This was a dragging, possibly unnecessary chapter. I acknowledge that it probably wasn't that good. Still struggling with writer's block, and that is my lame excuse XD But I wanted to devote some time to Izzy and Tai having freak outs, because it would have felt odd to gloss over that. Speaking of, poor Tai, I just… I just throw that boy under the bus over and over and over. Things will look up for him, I promise, but it's going to take a while, sadly.

Also, MAN are Izzy and Amy an awkward couple. I hope they enjoyed their make out session, because I rather doubt they'll be doing that again any time soon.

Uh… Right, so… This story arc is going to be delivered in a few parts, since it's so long. I already have quite a bit written of Amy explaining the Jerry situation to Izzy, so that should come out before too long. So, next chapter, you'll get that, along with an interesting conversation between Izzy and Joe. The following chapter should probably deal with Izzy talking to Matt. Just to warn you, this entire arc is going to be VERY heavily Izzy-centric, as he (somewhat desperately) investigates the Jerry thing from all possible angles. But hey, he is the main character here (I consider him to be the main character of this story, which I hope is coming through).

Oh, also, if you're wondering why I've been absent lately, it's mostly because of things at work, and also because I'm finally setting up the details of my wedding with my long-standing fiancé. I'd appreciate it if you lovely readers would offer me your understanding :)


	27. Jerry and Amy, Pt 2

**Author's note**: In which Tai struggles with Amy's growing independence, and Joe finds himself in need of Izzy's help. Now, I know I promised Amy talking about Jerry, but that part is already over 8K long, and this bit is almost 6K long. I didn't want to blow out people's attention spans with a chapter that would have ended up being about 17K long by the time I finish writing what happened. But it will be up very soon. Thank you so much for your patience.

Jerry and Amy, Pt 2

"Hey, Tai! Taaaaaaiiiiiii! Hey! You're too fast. Wait for me!"

Tai glanced over his shoulder and sighed. Amy was running towards him as fast as her pudgy little legs would take her, but her top speed was less than half of his, and he wasn't in the mood to slow down for her. His brand new soccer ball was glinting in the sunlight in his arms, and he couldn't wait to get to the park and dirty it up properly. It was great to have new equipment, but there was nothing more embarrassing than being seen with a ball that made it look like he didn't practice, not when his favorite sport was involved.

He considered taking off at full speed and losing her, but she could probably guess where he was headed, and then he would have to deal with clinginess and tears when she caught up. He reluctantly came to a halt on the sidewalk, tapping his foot impatiently as his cousin approached.

"Why are you following me?" he asked as she finally came into speaking distance. She bent over and huffed for a moment, panting heavily, then stood up and crossed her arms.

"So we can play." The unspoken _duh _weighed heavily between then, and Tai scowled at her.

"I'm playing soccer," he pointed out, gesturing towards the ball pinched under the crook of his arm.

Amy blew an impatient raspberry at him. "Well, yeeeeah."

Tai grunted and slid a finger under the band of the goggles around his head, plucking it irritably. "Yeah. And you don't like soccer. You should go do some girl stuff that you like."

Amy squared her shoulders and frowned, stepping right up to him. She was taller than him, which he found embarrassing and frustrating, but his mom always said that girls grew faster, and he would shoot past her one day. But, for now, she was bigger, and it was _so annoying. _

"Girls can play soccer, too, Tai."

"Yeah, yeah," he replied easily, not caring enough to argue. "But you don't like soccer, so you don't want to go with me. Go play with someone else."

"I do _so_ want to go with you!" Amy shot back, stomping her tiny foot.

At this point, Tai was genuinely confused. "Why do you always follow me everywhere, even when I'm doing stuff you don't like?" he asked, tilting his bushy head. Amy froze for a second, then rocked awkwardly on her feet.

"Because I like _you_." She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds- she was always doing that, and it made her cheeks move like a chipmunk's. "You're my favorite person in the world." Her hands moved to her elbows, and she bent over slightly, as if she was trying to console herself with a hug. "But... But I guess... You don't want me around, so..."

She didn't cry, but her voice wavered, and guilt settled over Tai, making him shift uncomfortably. All at once, he could hear his mother's voice in his head, intermingled here and there with his protests...

_Tai, your cousin is coming over today. Let her play with you and your friends, alright?_

_But mooom! She's lousy at sports, she always holds us up, and we don't want a girl around. My friends always complain about it._

_Tai! I know it doesn't seem like it now, but you'll forget all about those boys someday, and Amy will still be very, very dear to you. _

_Why? Just cuz she's related to me? I'm related to her brother Jesse too, but you don't make me play with him._

_No, silly boy. Amy will always be dear to you because she adores you, more than anything else in the world. More than I've ever seen a child love something before. I don't think I can make you understand this, but... If you push her too far away now, you'll regret it one day. Try to remember that, okay?_

Tai didn't understand it, but he suddenly felt a little like crying, himself. But that was for babies, so he forced a smile and put an arm around Amy's shoulders, standing on his toes to do it. "Sorry, Amy. 'Course I want ya around. I was just afraid you'd be bored, is all."

Amy tensed, then stared into his eyes for a long moment, and Tai fought to keep his fake smile in place. It was really weird, but sometimes, when Amy looked at him, he felt like she could see his insides, could read his thoughts. And, sure enough, she blandly declared, "You're lying."

Tai felt a muscle twitch with surprise in his face, but he managed to shake his head calmly enough. "It's okay, Tai. I'll forgive you if you play with me."

"I'm not lying," he lied grumpily. Here he was, trying to be nice to her, and she went and called him a liar!

"Okay, Tai," Amy chirped, and she started walking down the sidewalk again. Tai sputtered at her back for a moment, and then she looked at him over her shoulder and smiled mischievously. Tai couldn't help it; he snorted, then grinned, then laughed.

And then he jogged to catch up with her.

A Moment Later

Tai's eyes drifted open, and he groaned automatically, rolling onto his side. _God, it feels like my brain cells committed suicide. No, wait. If they did that, it wouldn't hurt anymore. Would it? _

"Ah, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. And to think, I was just going to start filling a bucket with ice and water... Pity."

Tai was facing the wall containing closets, but he knew that deep, sarcastic voice anywhere. "Fuck you, Matt."

"That was quite the groan, there," Matt continued pleasantly, ignoring the interruption. "Did we overindulge?"

"Again, fuck you." Tai rubbed his forehead and tried not to grimace. He had a habit of bragging about his crazy alcohol tolerance, and he didn't want to give Matt a reason to call him out on his current discomfort. But then, he _had_ downed an incredible amount of booze last night.

"Tch. You're losing points for creativity, Tai."

"Fine." Without turning away from the closets, Tai raised his arm and flipped Matt off. Matt started laughing, but the sound was immediately muted, probably by his hand. Tai rolled over and raised an eyebrow at his friend, who, to his surprise, was already showered and fully dressed. "You're in a good mood," Tai said darkly. For some reason, most likely his headache, he had woken up crabby.

Matt smirked for a moment, then cleared his face with visible effort. Suddenly, Tai remembered the text his friend had sent him at the bar last night. _Sora and I are going back to her room. _A carefully worded message, meant to tell Tai as a roommate that Matt wouldn't be sleeping in his room that night, without directly saying why. The reason would make Tai jealous as a man, and Matt knew it. Tai snorted at the ceiling and rubbed his temples, trying to ignore his headache and annoyance. Despite Matt's tact, Tai was still incredibly envious.

Matt must have noticed the sudden dip in Tai's emotional state, because he hastily changed the subject. "Have you seen Amy? She wasn't in my bed when I came back. I came in pretty late, but I figured she would be pretty hungover, so I was expecting her to be here."

Tai's heart began to thud with panic, and he sat straight up in bed, ignoring the swirling feeling of pain in his skull. He looked over at Matt's side of the room, as if hoping to find that his friend had somehow overlooked a person in his bed. But there was no Amy, of course, and Tai's teeth smashed together.

Then, all at once, Tai remembered coming home last night. There was a weird pain in his chest as he recalled Amy's refusal to leave Izzy's room with him, but he dismissed it as baffling and unimportant. "You will not _believe _this, Matt," he growled, groping on the floor for his cellphone. "Izzy texted me last night saying that he was taking Amy back to the dorm, and when I got a hold of him he tells me-" His fingers brushed the device, and he grabbed it and straightened on the bed. "The little bastard tells me that Amy's _sleeping in his bed!" _Anger began to kindle anew within him, and its fires seemed to burn away his headache and fill him with a pressing need to get up and do something about all of this. Accordingly, he threw his feet over the side of the bed and began to pace around the room, texting Amy as he moved.

"You're joking!" Tai turned towards Matt and registered the shock on his face, and he confirmed with a grim nod. For a moment, the presence of an ally buoyed his spirits, but that feeling of unity and strength fell apart as Matt began to grin. "God! Good for her! I thought it would take at least another month for them to get together."

"I- Wait- Wuh?" Tai froze mid prowl and stared at his best friend, forgetting about the half-finished message he was writing. Confusion warred with anger, and he parked himself on the nearest bed, not noticing that it was Matt's. He was so overwhelmed that it was all he could manage.

Matt sighed and took a seat next to him. "Tai. Even though I knew you hadn't noticed... I can't believe you didn't notice."

"Notice what?" Tai growled, fuming at the amused indulgence in Matt's tone. Little snot had the balls to act all superior, just because he was a little better at reading people.

Matt shook his head, and it made Tai want to punch him in the face. But that would probably mean he had to wait longer for this information, and, despite his annoyance, Tai did want to know what his friend had to say. "Amy's been following Izzy around like a lovesick little lamb for nearly the entire semester."

Tai scowled at him and straightened his back, tapping his knees with his fingers. "I mean, yeah, she's definitely made friends with him. But it's not like she was into him romantically. Don't you think she would have said something to us?" He held his hands out emphatically, as if he had just settled the matter.

Matt edged back, snorted, and flicked some of his hair into place. "Tai. When has Amy _ever _been forthcoming with information, even to us? If TK had asked, he might have been able to wriggle some stuff out of her, but probably not enough to make it worth the effort. I have to pull teeth with her to even get her to confirm something I've already guessed."

"She tells us stuff!" Tai protested. "And anyway, how would your brother get her to talk more than I could? As if, man." He rolled his eyes and stood back up, falling back to pacing and texting Amy. Matt was crazy, obviously, and his methods would work better.

"You really can be an idiot, Tai," Matt sighed, and Tai paused long enough to shoot him a frown. "She may trust you more than anyone else, but TK _gets_ her, even more than I do. And Amy responds to that."

"I get her!" Tai protested. His finger shook and slid, adding a trail of gibberish to his message. He cursed under his breath and deleted it.

Matt continued talking without acknowledging his outburst, and Tai recognized it as disagreement, which only pissed him off more. "I don't want to say this anymore than you want to hear it, Tai, but... Has it occurred to you that Amy may have reasons for keeping us in the dark about her love life?"

Tai came to a complete stop without realizing it. Muscles began to twitch in his face, and he had to calm himself with several slow, enormous breaths. Regret, guilt, and worry ate away at his rage, and he fell back beside Matt, feeling oddly empty and helpless.

A hand fell on his back, thumping it, then rested comfortingly on his shoulder. "Trust me, Tai. This thing with Izzy wasn't some kind of drunken mistake. Amy's been wanting it for weeks, even if she didn't openly admit it to herself. I've been watching both of them for a while, and I'd bet my bass that she's over the moon right now. Well, if she isn't puking, anyway." He frowned and glanced towards the door. "Maybe I should go check on her."

Tai dumped his chin into his palm and glared at Matt. "Okay, let's say that they have been into each other this whole time. Why didn't you tell me?!" His annoyance blocked out his dejection, and he was grateful for that much.

Matt's fingers tensed briefly around his shoulder, and then he withdrew the touch. Tai looked over and saw slight wariness in his blue eyes. A slow grin began to form across his face, his way of telling Matt that he could feel his apprehension, and that it amused him. And that amusement pissed off his best friend, if the narrowing of his eyes was any indication. "I was afraid you would either try to convince Amy not to pursue romance, or that you'd scare Izzy away from her. Or both. Because, again, you're an idiot."

"Because I don't want her to get hurt again!" Tai snapped, half rising from the bed. He failed to notice that he was entirely confirming Matt's predictions. Matt cocked an eyebrow at him, then sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Just how much are we supposed to interfere, Tai?" he asked, running his fingers roughly through his hair. His fingers came out glistening slightly from the gel. "First, we encourage her to be with Jerry. That turns into a disaster. Then, what, we cut her off from all other men, because the one we endorsed turned out to be a..." He broke off, and his face pinched into an incredibly disgusted expression. Then he took a deep breath, leaned closer, and held onto his shoulder again. "She's moving on. Healing. I never would have expected it to happen so soon. We should be happy for her, Tai. She chose Izzy on her own. She's never chosen _anyone_ on her own, romantic or otherwise. Can you imagine how much he must mean to her? How much she must like him?"

Heat spread all over Tai's body at the mention of Jerry, and he cracked all of his knuckles without willing it. "What do you mean, she's never chosen anyone before? Sounds like new age mumbo jumbo to me."

Those blue eyes began to move in a rolling arc, but Matt cut off the motion midway. "She met you and Kari through her family, and, even though she annoyed you back then, you took her under your wing, because you can't seem to help yourself around girls that you feel some kind of relation or connection to. She let me in because I'm your best friend, and she trusts your judgment. I'm close with my brother, so she trusted him. She accepted Mimi when the other girls wouldn't, and Mimi practically bullied her into a friendship, even though Amy made it clear that she wasn't interested. She's slowly taking to Sora, because she's my- Because we're close to her. And I think Mimi's pressured her into treating Joe as a friend." He looked away and made an uncomfortable hedging sound. "And you know what happened with..."

"Yeah," Tai breathed. "Yeah." He rubbed his forearm and frowned at nothing. "I dunno, I mean, she talks to people if they're around. My teammates, your bandmates, the people in her plays..."

"Talking and befriending are two different things. You've seen her do little things for people who really need it, but then... You've also seen her reject them when they don't need her anymore. She does it as kindly as she can, but a rejection is still a rejection. And she doesn't readily share her deeper thoughts and feelings, not even with us. But, with Izzy... Did you know she asked him to take her roller skating that one time? _She _asked him. And I was there when she asked for his phone number. To us, it doesn't sound like much. To her, it's a big deal. We need to support her choice, Tai. Believe me, this is important to her."

Tai grit his teeth and frowned. Part of him did understand what Matt was saying to him, but it just wasn't sitting well. "But _Izzy_?" he said at last, shaking his head darkly.

"What's wrong with Izzy?" Matt asked, looking slightly surprised. "He's a good guy, if a bit socially awkward. But he treats her respectfully, and she's all smiles when he's around. What's your problem?"

"What's the problem?" Tai echoed incredulously. He snorted and held a hand out at Izzy's height, approximately five foot three. "If she's with _him_, she won't be around us as much. And how is he supposed to protect her? She's probably better in a fight than he is! I could bench press that shrimp." Tai clapped his hands onto his knees and scowled. "And anyway, even if he were able to protect her, she's not ready yet." He ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling it from the roots. "It's still too soon. So soon…" He hated to think of it, but it really wasn't all that long ago that Amy's smiles were all forced and fake, that she did everything mechanically, just trying to put up a front that everything was normal, that she felt fine. And it had hurt like hell to see her that way.

Matt slipped away slightly and crossed his arms, and something about his expression warned Tai that he was about to hear something he wouldn't like. "Okay. First… Please bench press Izzy someday." Tai blinked, then snorted and managed a small laugh. _Yeah, that does sound like a plan. _"Second, there's more to keeping someone safe than muscle. Izzy has other ways of dealing with things, like being a freaking genius, for one. Third, has it occurred to you that Izzy's body type may be a relief for Amy? You know she never liked how Jerry would pick her up and hold her against him. She hated being overpowered like that, and Izzy just doesn't have that option. Fourth, she decides when she's ready, Tai, not you. And lastly…"

_Here it comes, _Tai thought lazily as he watched Matt hesitate. His anticipation of a particularly painful bit of words had his harsher instincts rising. His hands gripped his knees, causing the veins to pop up beneath his skin.

Matt cleared his throat. "Lastly… I think you're jealous, Tai, and that's part of why you're getting so mad about this."

"Jealous?" Tai squawked. He was so surprised that his rising anger disappeared. "_Jealous?!_ What the fuck! That's gross, man!" Matt snorted and held a hand out to Tai, shaking his head.

"Dumb-ass. Not romantically jealous, obviously. I mean… She's always seen you as her number one her whole life, and I think you don't want to lose that. We all… We regret it now, but we all wanted to see her be with someone in the past. But this thing with Izzy? It's different, and I think you've already figured that out on some level."

A strained sound slipped out of Tai, and his body seemed to freeze up for a moment. His brain was overtaken with memories of last night's dream, and he felt embarrassed heat rising to his face. Then he saw wide, confused eyes, heard Amy's voice saying, _Go? I'm staying here. _Frustration and something like sadness began to build up in Tai's chest, and he threw himself off of Matt's bed, moving towards his closet, ripping his shirt off all the while.

"What are you doing?" Matt asked.

"Shower," Tai grunted, not bothering to turn around. "I don't have time to listen to your crazy bullshit."

There was a pause, a sigh, and the sound of Matt rising from his bed. "Suit yourself, Tai."

Elsewhere, slightly later

Izzy was staring blankly at his monitor when the door opened. He swiveled his chair towards the entry, then slumped over slightly when he saw that it was Joe, looking flustered and rather unkempt.

"Hello to you, too," Joe said grumpily, shutting the door behind him. "What's with the frowns and woe? Am I not allowed in my own room?"

"Feeling pleasant, aren't we?" Izzy said blithely as he straightened in his desk chair. "I apologize for my disappointment. I suppose I have something of an appointment with Amy, and I'm rather… antsy about it."

Joe scowled at him before collapsing into his own chair and closing his eyes. Izzy stared at him and noted that, despite it being after one in the afternoon, Joe still hadn't showered or changed out of his cowboy costume yet, except to remove the hat, neckerchief, and spurs. He looked exhausted and worn out, and, for a moment, Izzy wondered if Tai was correct, and Joe had been up all night with Mimi in an amorous capacity. _But a man is generally not so crabby after a night of sex._

Nothing would be gained by beating around the bush, so Izzy went straight for the heart. "How was your evening?" he asked, scooting his chair slightly closer and focusing his attention on his friend. Joe grimaced and winced, then ran his fingers through his hair, which was slightly oily with want of washing. His Adam's apple slid downward as he swallowed hard. Finally, he leaned forward and held is head in his hands, still fussing with his hair incessantly.

"God, Izzy, I need your help," he groaned, and Izzy felt his brow jump up. _What do I do? _he demanded of himself. He was aware that he owed Joe for all of his recent concern, and he wanted to assist him, but, frankly, Izzy had his own problems to deal with today, and they were probably worse than Joe's.

"In what capacity?" he asked carefully. Joe drew his hands down his long face and sighed. His hands made twitchy little gestures for about half a minute, as if he were trying to illustrate his point with them, but Izzy had no idea how to translate the erratic motions. "Talking is generally more effective than charades, Joe."

"Fine," Joe growled, dumping his forehead into his palm. "Mimi wants sex, okay?"

Izzy felt his body freeze up, which was fortunate, because he was equally tempted to laugh and to scoff. Why was Joe bringing him these trivialities when he was still trying to work out why he woke up alone this morning? "I believe she'll notice if we switch you out for me," Izzy said, his tone bland and robotic.

"Ha, ha, ha," Joe drawled. "Could you do me a favor and take this seriously?"

"I'm sorry," Izzy said, his tone making it clear that he was merely apologizing out of politeness. "I can only assume that being intimate with Mimi is a desirable state of affairs for you, so I simply fail to see the problem. Could you elaborate?"

Joe crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, and Izzy noticed his poor coloring and the tightness of his facial muscles. With an effort, he set aside his annoyance and his troubled emotional state, sensing that Joe really did need him. Joe stalled by clearing his throat over and over and tapping his foot against the ground for a while, but something about the weight of Izzy's stare must have finally made him unsettled enough to get to the point. "I'm a virgin. She's not. I don't mean to judge her or say anything about her past, but it seems like she's… Like she's fairly experienced."

"Performance anxiety," Izzy summed up, nodding his head. A common enough problem. Although he disliked thinking of it, he could remember how nervous and uptight he was when he lost his virginity, and Shauna practically did everything for him that first time.

"It's more than that!" Joe snapped. "This isn't a bit of fun for me, Izzy! I'm already in way too deep here, and, and…" He looked away and fell silent, but he had already said enough to make his meaning clear to Izzy.

"You're worried she'll think less of you if you don't perform as well as some of her past partners." Joe made a strangled sound and buried his face in his hands, which was sufficient confirmation. _That's something I didn't consider when Shauna came onto me, _Izzy realized. He made a tight fist and placed it against his chin. _Just another sign that should have warned me that I truly was not interested in her._

Izzy shook his head to clear out those thoughts, then focused on what he knew about Mimi. "Joe," he began slowly, leaning back in his chair. "While I can't say that I always understand Mimi, and while I also can't claim to always approve of her behavior, I do think that, beneath her self-absorption and vanity, she's a truly kind person. It seems to me that she's likely to patiently teach you exactly what she wants, and that you'll respond well, being intelligent and invested in the subject. It may take some time, but I trust that she'll be quite pleased with the results in the end."

There was a long, awkward pause, during which Joe stared (rather unnervingly) at Izzy. "Do you really think so?" he asked at last, looking hopeful and uncertain.

Annoyance rose in Izzy, prompting him to snap something along the lines of, _Would I have said it otherwise? _But he knew that Joe was unsteady and upset at the moment, and Izzy was also emotionally strained, so he dredged up a smile from somewhere inside of him and nodded. Joe sighed and collapsed against the chair's backrest.

"Thanks, Izzy. I really needed to hear that. But, uh, you know… I really was trying to get some, ah, advice from you."

"Advice?" Izzy echoed, frowning slightly. He had hoped that the subject would close now, but it seemed like Joe wanted to take it in a new direction. "Didn't I just advise you?"

"Well, I mean, you know… Sex advice." Izzy's eyes must have popped, because Joe leaned closer and began to babble, his tone an odd mixture of strained and apologetic. "I know you don't like talking about Shauna, and I know you're going to object and say that she was with you entirely for her own ends, but really, Izzy. A girl that beautiful doesn't keep demanding sex from someone unless they're, you now… Doing it right."

Heat flooded to Izzy's face, and he gawked at Joe with his mouth hanging open. He was unable to decide if he was angry, embarrassed, or just plain confused. "You want sex advice," he said slowly, his voice sounding like a squeak. "From… from me." Joe managed a slight nod, and Izzy shook his head in response. "Joe. I'm a textbook example of the class nerd. One does not approach the class nerd for sex advice." _And I would rather not talk about being intimate with Shauna, especially not when I have no idea what my status is with Amy._

Joe began to protest, and Izzy raised his voice. "Besides, the only one who can tell you what Mimi wants is Mimi."

"But…" Joe sighed and glanced out the window. "There must be some general things you can tell me."

_Oof. My hangover headache is returning with a vengeance, with offspring besides. _"Joe, I want to help you," Izzy muttered, half groaning the words under the strain of the pain in his head. "But… Can this wait? I'm afraid I have my own problems at the moment, and, while I acknowledge that I'm indebted to you, I truly don't think I can handle this right now."

Although he was staring into his lap, Izzy could feel Joe's eyes on him. "Now that I take a good look at you, you really don't look well," Joe muttered. The next thing Izzy knew, there was a hand on his forehead. "You're so clammy…! Are you alright?" Izzy opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off as Joe began speaking again. "No, wait, didn't you mention something about having an appointment with Amy? In retrospect, that sounds kind of ominous. Did something happen with her last night?"

_What's wrong with me? _Izzy didn't understand it, but something about the concern in Joe's voice and the caring look in his eyes was rapidly eroding the shell Izzy kept around his emotions. His eyes began to burn and sting, and he began to blink furiously, looking anywhere but at Joe's face. _Good Lord, I'm tearing up like a school girl at a sappy movie. What the deuce is wrong with me? _

_It's been too much, _a voice inside himself answered. _Just too much. All that arousal and hope and joy last night, then all of that confusion and fear and pain, that nightmare, being violently ill, wondering if I hurt Amy beyond healing… Panic and fear again when Tai came in… Hope and bittersweet affection when Amy laid back down with me…_

_Isolation, hurt, and confusion when she was no longer there when I awoke._

Fingers closed around his upper arms with uncomfortable strength, pulling him out of his thoughts. It took him a moment to identify the face hovering over his as Joe's. "Izzy, you're seriously freaking me out, here. You just zoned out and started tearing up. Come on, talk to me." Defiance must have registered on Izzy's face, because Joe made an impatient hand gesture. "Spare me the usual argument, Izzy. You obviously need to talk."

Something snapped inside of Izzy, and he felt like a champaign bottle flowing over as someone freed the cork. He bent over, buried his face in his hands, and told Joe everything in a nasal, robotic monotone. He was too wrung out to supply the proper emotional context, too overwhelmed to register how Joe was taking the story. When he finally stopped talking, when that last drop was shed, he felt oddly empty and used up, but undeniably calmer.

"…Wow," Joe muttered at last. He had stayed quiet during the whole story, and Izzy was grateful. "And… And she really wasn't there when you woke up?"

This seemed like an appropriate time to be annoyed, but Izzy just didn't have the capacity anymore. "She was not," he said blandly.

Frowning, Joe rose from his bed, where he had made himself comfortable, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Joe? Joe, what are you doing?" Izzy watched, feeling a faint, far-off sense of alarm, as Joe ignored him and played with the touchscreen of his phone. Then he placed it beside his ear and tilted his head to hold it there.

"Hi, Amy," Joe said calmly, and Izzy gripped the armrests of his chair and half rose. Joe made an impatient hand motion, and Izzy grit his teeth and settled back down. "Hm? No, I'm fine now, thanks. My hangover died out a while ago. How about you?" There was a faint pause, during which Joe's brow began to press down heavily. "Really? _Still_? Are you resting? Well, make sure you drink lots of water. Oh, and I think Izzy is concerned about you." Izzy hissed his dissent, more towards Joe's heavy-handedness than the content of his words, but his friend ignored him, tilted his cell, and switched it to speaker phone. Joe held a finger up to hips lips, but Izzy didn't need the warning, and he frowned in response.

"Is he…?" Amy breathed, and Izzy half rose again at the weariness in her voice. "Ah, I should have left a note or something, but I couldn't help it. I was about to throw up, and then I didn't want him to see me until I showered, but I still don't feel well. I'd be really embarrassed if he saw me throw up."

_Why? I saw plenty of that last night. _Izzy considered it for a moment, then decided that such things were more uncomfortable when one was sober. "I didn't mean to make him worry… Can you explain to him, and tell him I'll call him when I feel better?"

"Let me give him the phone," Joe said, ignoring Amy's slight sputtering. Izzy shook his head and scowled as Joe handed over his cell, unsure of whether to feel grateful or put upon.

"Hello?" he muttered, switching the phone back out of speaker mode.

"Izzy…" Warmth and pleasure dripped from her voice, and Izzy closed his eyes automatically in response. She still sounded exhausted and sick, not to mention a bit uncomfortable, but her affection was still clearly evident. "I'm really sorry I wasn't there when you woke up this morning. I should have realized that it could worry you. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. I just felt so sick, I-"

"It's alright, Amy," Izzy said, cutting off her anxious apologies. "It's alright. Would you like me to come look after you?"

There was a long, weary sigh on the other line. "I'm _fine_. Tai brought me Gatorade and asked about a million questions. Matt came in with lunch and insisted that I eat it, and, of course, I threw it up half an hour later. Mimi came by to fluff my pillows and gossip about Joe. Apparently, she- Well, that's their business, I guess. Uh… Sora's been playing music for me in the room all day. I really appreciate the offer, but I could use some quiet."

Izzy couldn't help but smile at the strain in her voice. Funny how what others saw as care could be seen as heckling when you just wanted some time alone. "I understand," he said, and he really meant it. "But… I do have to remind you about our agreement last night."

There was a strained silence that went on long enough for Izzy to ask if she was still there. "Yes," she breathed. "I haven't forgotten. I'll call you when I'm feeling better, alright?"

Izzy agreed, said goodbye, and hung up, handing the phone over to Joe. He pocketed it with a thoughtful expression.

"Mimi must have said something about last night to Amy. God. God." He broke off and licked his lips nervously, then shook his head. "Well, what can I do about it? I'm just going to take a shower," he said, heading towards his closet. "Anyway… I'm really glad you're with Amy now, Izzy. Congratulations. But, I wanted to say… Whatever it is that happened with Amy and her last boyfriend… I don't think it's going to be an easy conversation."

"No," Izzy said hollowly, swiveling his chair back towards his monitor. "I never thought it would be."

**Author's Note**: Joe really probably should have said more about Amy and Izzy getting together, but he has his own problems at the moment. I have to say though, boy knows how to get something done, doesn't he (at least when it's someone else's problem)? Respect.

Oh yeah, lol, Shauna and Joe definitely have different vocal conclusions about Izzy's romantic capabilities. Is Joe mistaken? Was Shauna lying, or perhaps exaggerating? Oh, the questions!

Poor Tai. He needs some time to come to terms with things. I can't say I blame him, given the circumstances. At least Matt is less hardheaded.

Anyway, next chapter is nothing but Amy talking to Izzy, so it definitely will NOT get put off again, I promise. I'm really sorry D: I have about 9K words written, so hopefully I finish it soon, because dude. Long chapter is long.


	28. Jerry and Amy, Pt 3

**Author's Note: **This chapter isn't really M, but it contains a very difficult situation that I don't want anyone to be unprepared for, or to take too lightly.

Jerry and Amy, Pt 3

There was no point in denying it; Izzy was feeling very unsteady as he made his way to Amy's room. She had summoned him with a text, and he had no idea what was going to happen, wasn't sure if he was overstepping his bounds here, wasn't even entirely sure where their relationship stood, despite the fact that she had called him her boyfriend last night. All he really knew was that he felt oddly sick again.

Izzy knocked and slowly opened her door, and his eyes immediately fell on Amy playing her guitar on her bed. She looked over at him and smiled weakly. _She looks so vulnerable, _Izzy thought, feeling a twang in his chest. _Is it a lingering sign of her hangover, or she anxious about this conversation? _He forced a smile in return, closed the door, and sat down on her desk chair. Izzy leaned towards her, balancing his forearms on his legs, and wheeled the seat slightly closer.

"So… You're feeling better, then?" he said at length, watching her strum her instrument. It was quite the hangover; it was nearly three in the afternoon, now. They were fortunate that it was the weekend. Amy nodded, but Izzy noticed that she was still a bit too pale, and that she was breathing a touch more heavily than usual.

"I guess I shouldn't drink that much again. It was a little reckless of me, huh." Izzy wanted to point out that he had tried to curb her drinking, but he knew that now was not the time to scold her. At any rate, she was talking again, and listening was more important than ever at the moment. "I… I really want to apologize for how I behaved last night, Izzy. Saying all that stuff and pushing myself on you… Scaring you like I did… I, I know I was drunk, but still, I should have been more-"

"Amy, stop." Izzy held a hand up to emphasize his words, but lowered it when he noticed its shaking. "I think… I think we both wish that we could have broached the subject of our feelings for each other under different circumstances, but… We're both rather private individuals, and, while it pains me to say so, it might have taken us a long time to come to this point without the influence of alcohol. That's why…" Izzy cleared his throat and laced his fingers together, flexing them uncomfortably. He really was not happy to speak so frankly about this topic, but this was too important to risk with indirectness and subtlety. "That's why I would like to propose that we try to move beyond the, ah, unideal circumstances of our time together last night, but retain the knowledge we gained."

"Um?" Amy stopped playing her guitar long enough to fix him with a puzzled expression. "What knowledge was that, exactly?" Her voice trailed off in high-pitched uncertainty.

_Good God. Is she honestly confused, or is she purposefully making me spell this out for her? _Izzy squirmed in his chair for a moment, then stared resolutely at the floor. "Amy," he sighed, depositing his forehead into his palm. "I was referring to the discovery of our romantic inclinations towards one another, and… And the rather alarming strength of our chemistry." _Or did you forget the part where we swabbed each other's throats like high schoolers in the backseat of a car? _His face began to burn as he recalled the way he had kissed her, how he had lost himself completely to a passion he had never felt before, that alarmed him even now, hours after the fact.

"Oh," she said quietly. Izzy risked a glance towards her, and found her biting her lower lip viciously. "So, uh, so… You're really alright with dating me, then?"

Something in him was suggesting that he behave romantically, that he say something warm and inviting, but he mostly felt alarmed and reluctant. _Why is this sort of thing so difficult for me?_ "Yes," he said baldly, and even that much was forced. Even so, he expected Amy to blush and grin, but her face remained startlingly blank.

"Maybe… Maybe we should talk about the other thing before you decide that." Her eyes went downcast and dull, and concern spiked up in Izzy. Did she truly think that whatever she had to say about Jerry would cause him to reject her? He had no idea what that could imply, but he knew he didn't like it.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Izzy admitted. There was no answer, so he was forced to keep talking. "I really am reluctant to pry about your ex." Although he knew that he may be pushing too hard, that this may be none of his business, he still couldn't convince himself to absolve her of her promise to tell her story. His need to know was as instinctive and necessary to him as his need to breathe. Amy nodded, but her expression remained unchanged: distant, slightly anxious. There was a long pause, filled with pensive, melancholy guitar music.

Just when Izzy began to consider prodding the conversation back into existence, she lifted her head and caught his eye. "You need to know. It's too dangerous, otherwise. I don't want to scare you again by freaking out like that." Her shoulders dropped, and she looked away, focusing on the strumming motion of her hand.

"And I certainly don't want to cause you further distress. I'm so very, very sorry about that." Izzy rubbed his sweaty palms on his knees, trying to be discrete about it. He felt very peculiar, being so torn between needing to know and not wanting to know. And there was an odd trace of fear hiding within him, although he wasn't sure he understood why. Perhaps it was remnants of the feelings he had experienced when Amy began to freeze and cry underneath him. Truthfully, he had never been so terrified in his life, and he didn't know how to interpret the strength of that fear, didn't know how to rid himself of it.

_This is all so vulnerable and foreign to me, _he thought, staring pensively at his knees. There was a dull ache in his chest as he acknowledged that, despite the difficulties of starting a relationship and trying to connect with Amy, he had no intention or desire to stray from this course.

Amy closed her eyes and leaned her head back, as if she were addressing the ceiling. "It's not your fault. You didn't know," she said dismissively.

Izzy was protesting before he even knew why. "Amy, you were absolutely beside yourself, and I was the one who shoved you over the edge. You _told _me not to push you into romantic interactions while you were under the influence, and I ignored you. I still can't believe I caused you such pain." His heartbeat stuttered as the memory of her face, tear-streaked, white, and strained, floated through his mind. He rubbed his forehead roughly, but the image wouldn't depart.

He looked up when a hand landed on his shoulder. "Izzy!" Her eyes met his, and tenderness and concern immediately softened her expression. "Izzy…" She withdrew long enough to remove the guitar and sit it beside her on the bed, then leaned towards him. Her face was about seven inches away when she began to color and hesitate.

Izzy tilted his head and produced a puzzled frown. "Are you… Are you attempting to kiss me?" he asked. The words could have been teasing, but he was entirely serious in his question. She looked hilarious, hovering over the edge of her bed, looking increasingly flustered, and he wasn't entirely sure how to interpret her intent.

Amy cringed and backed away. "Well- I- Look." She plopped herself back onto the bed, huffed, crossed her legs, and sighed. "I just, I just wanted to let you know that… Even though last night wasn't perfect, I… I really want to thank you. Yes, we both maybe made mistakes. But I had a lot of fun being out with you, and, and…" She grasped her feet and rocked slightly, worrying her lower lip. "When you were kissing me, Izzy… I can't even describe it to you, you have no idea, but I will never, ever forget how it felt." Her eyes fluttered shut, and, somehow, Izzy knew that she was imagining it. "So…" Her voice was soft, airy, wistful. "Thank you. I know I'm going to try to forget the bad stuff, and just remember how happy I was to spend that time with you, to be that close to you."

Somehow, listening to her talk was like being kicked in the stomach, and Izzy suddenly felt winded. He didn't know how to process such affection, and he felt uncomfortable and touched in equal measures. His brain stumbled about for a few seconds, then distracted itself by observing her. She kept shooting shy glances at him, and her fingres were intertwining nervously.

_Idiot, what are you still doing, sitting here? She wants you to kiss her! _Izzy gripped the armrests and grimaced. He wanted to kiss her, yes, but he was afraid, afraid that he would somehow scare her again, afraid that this kiss wouldn't hold up to their first. But her lips were separating slightly, and Izzy did everything he could to shove his worries aside. He rose, sat beside her, and tilted her face towards his.

Her breath caught against his mouth as their lips touched, and that excited, blissful sound stroked his heart, easing some of his distress. She immediately reoriented towards him, and her hands went to his shoulders, pulling him in. At first, it was warm and sweet, and Izzy felt capable, desired, and regarded. Then, a deep, aroused sound slipped out of one of them- he honestly couldn't say who- and something changed. His tongue was in her mouth, her body was crowding his, his arms fastened around her, gentle, hot hands slipped under his shirt. They were generating electricity between them, and Izzy could almost hear it snapping and sizzling.

Somehow, a faint streak of reason made its way through the haze in his brain, and Izzy grabbed onto it eagerly, as was his way. His eyes snapped open, and he pulled back, slipping away from Amy. She blinked at him, breathing heavily, and slowly pulled her hands out from under his shirt.

"W-well," she said at last, slipping off of his lap, "at least we know last night wasn't entirely alcohol." The words seemed a bit spunky, but they were said matter-of-factly, and delivered with a neutral expression, as if she were commenting on the weather.

Izzy cleared his throat and readjusted his shirt, which had gotten somewhat rumpled. _Sweet Lord. What am I going to do with her? _"No, indeed," he muttered, not really knowing what to add.

Amy smiled softly for a moment, then sighed and shifted. Sensing her sudden turn in mood, Izzy touched her hand and shot her a questioning look. "Oh, I was just thinking. We had really better get down to business, I guess? Maybe you'd… Maybe you'd like to lay down with me, and we'll talk?"

Somehow, Izzy kept his expression neutral, despite the wave of apprehension that swept over him. "Ah. Of course." He stood, put her guitar away, and watched as she made herself comfortable on her bed, then awkwardly stretched out beside her, facing her. Being so close was still a little awkward, despite their recent kiss, despite having slept beside her all night, and he fought down a sigh. Their bodies were faintly touching, just enough for him to discern her tenseness. "Are you alright like this?" he asked.

A breathy sigh was the answer. Fingers closed shyly around his, and he squeezed them softly. "I'll be fine," Amy said at last. "Just don't be offended if it takes me some time to relax." Izzy nodded, accepting her words without hurt; after all, he was uncomfortable, too.

For a moment, everything was quiet, and Izzy closed his eyes and focused on the warmth of her body and the sunlight pouring through the window. When she finally began to speak, he had fallen into a half-daze, and he almost jumped at the sound of her voice. "I should probably warn you... I've never told the whole story before. Tai and Matt know the most. TK and Kari... They know just enough to be able to understand why... Why I was... Why my behavior changed for a while."

"Are you implying that you intend to tell me the story in its entirety?" Izzy asked, trying to keep the surprise off of his face. Why would she give him more details than the people most important to her? Or did their relative lack of familiarity actually make it easier to impart sensitive information?

Amy sighed heavily and drummed her fingers against her stomach. "Well… I probably really won't tell you everything I should, even if I think I am. And maybe the boys know more than I give them credit for." She gave him a small, wry smile, then meticulously brushed strands of hair away from her face. "Sometimes I think I'm doing a better job of holding back than I really am. But... There are reasons why I tried to keep certain things from them, especially Tai. I guess I've never talked about what it was like, or how I feel about it before."

Izzy knew that he should let this go and accept her generosity, but, of course, he had to ask. He _always_ had to ask, didn't he? "May I ask why you're deciding to be so forthcoming with me?" Amy gave him a business-like nod, and Izzy smiled faintly. She always seemed to understand and accept his need for information, to take no offense at his inquisitiveness, and to not read into his words. Those qualities endeared her to him in ways that she would likely never realize.

"Well, first, you don't know Jerry. You had nothing to do with any of this. I can't hurt your feelings or make you feel guilty, which was a problem with my boys." She held her hands out towards him and apart, as if to measure an imaginary object. "There's been a space between when it happened and now, which makes it easier for me to talk about it, and also, it's less likely that you'll react as strongly, because there's distance, you know? Nothing can possibly be done about it anymore." Her words came to an abrupt stop, and Izzy watched her quietly for a moment. Was it his imagination, or was she shrinking back and looking shy all of a sudden?

"And..?" he prompted at last. Color began to creep into Amy's cheeks, and Izzy leaned in closer. He couldn't seem to look away from the wistful, soft, uncertain expression in her eyes.

"I... It's more your business than anyone else's. As we saw last night, there are lingering effects from prom, and... Well, I don't want to bother you with my... I mean, I know it's troublesome, but I'm hoping that..." She broke off with an exasperated sound, then tilted her head away from him.

Izzy began to understand her jumbled words by degrees, until his brain finally offered up a cohesive translation. "You're hoping that your problems continue to be my problems, as well." He cursed mentally, realizing that he should have said that softly, kindly, and perhaps with some heat to his voice and expression. Instead, he had thrown it out there in a nasal monotone, giving Amy no indication that he was completely willing to work with whatever needs she had. Patience, care, and concern were trifling prices to pay in return for being able to be intimately connected with her, both physically and emotionally.

As such, she was pulling back, and the lost look that she gave him had his chest tightening up. He held his hands out and spoke hastily, so anxious to clarify that he didn't consider the emotional content of his words. "There is nothing you could say that would deter my desire to be with you, Amy."

There was a beat of silence, and then Izzy repeated the words in his head, actually hearing them for the first time. Heat flooded to his face, and his hand tightened around hers, but he forced himself not to look away from Amy, not to backtrack. She smiled slowly, but their were traces of nerves about her, particularly in the way her eyes darted around. Izzy cast about for some way to make her relax, to convince her to believe his words. In the end, he lifted her hand, took it in both of his, and faintly pressed his lips to her knuckles. Her smile grew more natural, and her eyes settled on his. He couldn't help returning that grin; he was touched that she was touched, he was pleased that she was pleased.

Amy nuzzled his shoulder with her head, then exhaled slowly. "Okay. So… Uh, I guess I'll… start."

"You're sure you feel up to this?" he asked. He wanted to know, _needed _to know, but he couldn't help but feel like he was pressuring her into this. And that was something he did not want to do.

"No," Amy said bluntly, "but I never will be, and I feel like you should know. I have to just get this over with. And so…

"I met Jerry in my freshman year of high school. He and Tai were on the soccer team from the beginning, so they were pretty good friends, but never as close as, say, Matt and Tai. I went to a lot of the games, because they were so important to Tai, so I guess the soccer guys got to know me a little over the years.

"It was some time towards the end of junior year, I guess, that I started to notice Jerry sort of... hanging around wherever I went and talking to me. I didn't think much of it, other than to be kind of confused, because we didn't have much in common."

She sighed and began to play with the buttons on his shirt, and he forced himself not to pull her hands away. _Although it's likely that I'll never fully adjust to public affection, I really must learn to be more accommodating in private. I'm sure it will come with time, but when it's so new… Well, for now, let her do as she will._ "Listen. Jerry isn't the devil, you know? He made a mistake. I'm not going to argue that. But I do want you to know, I don't think he's an inherently bad person. I don't think he realized he was doing anything wrong at the time. He's not... he's not a bad guy."

Izzy could sense her hesitation, could see her lips beginning to form words, but giving up midway. "But he isn't good," he offered. How like Amy to be unable to give any kind of damnation, even one so mild.

Amy laughed weakly. "No. No. He isn't. But... I do think he loved me. It was just… His way of loving wasn't the kind of love I wanted." She broke off, nibbled her lower lip, and frowned. "Uh, okay, that sounds kind of confusing. Maybe it will make more sense if I tell you what he was like?" Izzy enjoyed having every detail he could gather, and he was a bit flummoxed, so he nodded immediately.

"Right. Jerry was the class clown, an affable sort of goofball. He called attention to himself, he was loud and energetic, and he always had something funny to say. But I was never sure if he was doing it to entertain people and make them smile, or doing it to be noticed and admired. He was really popular, really social, and very skilled at his sport."

Izzy grit his teeth against the question he wanted to ask. He knew it was a bad idea to pick at her right now, but there was a silence, and it seemed to be inviting him to speak. Before he knew it, the words slipped right out. "Pardon my presumption, but... From your description, he doesn't sound particularly compatible with you." _Smooth, fool. Call her out on her unfortunate choices, even when you're aware they hurt her. What a wonderful way to begin a relationship._

Amy ran a hand down his side, clutching his hip and running her fingers along the bone incessantly. _I've noticed it in the past, _Izzy thought wanly, _but she's incredibly clingy when she's upset. _"I, uh, I turned him down when he asked me to date him in senior year. I thought he was alright, but I had never thought of him romantically, so it seemed strange to accept. I felt bad, though, since he seemed pretty torn up about it."

There was another pause, and Izzy fought to keep his voice even when he spoke. "But, in the end, you must have accepted." Of course, he already had this detail from Mimi; Amy had capitulated because Tai, Matt, and Mimi encouraged her to accept Jerry. Amy was likely unwilling to implicate her friends, especially now that he knew them, so he wasn't surprised to find her dancing around that fact.

She squirmed against him, and Izzy ran a hand down his face. What was he doing, making her uncomfortable with his interruptions? "Well... I know it's a bad excuse, but people kept telling me that he was a good fit for me, because we were so different, I guess. And, when I started to date him, all of these people were telling me how lucky I was, how he was so handsome and funny and talented... I let them convince me that I was doing the right thing, even though I never felt much of a connection with him."

Izzy tried his best to stop himself from frowning. By people, did she mean classmates, or was she trying not to name Tai, Matt, and Mimi? He had no idea, but he didn't want to interrupt, so he let that question slide.

Amy rubbed her temples. "It was wrong of me, of course," she said, keeping her eyes hidden behind her hand. "I don't assert myself enough. I know that. But, even worse, Jerry... He was kind of... I don't want to sound full of myself, and I still don't understand it, but he was kind of... _obsessed _with me. He always seemed so pleased whenever I was near him, and he was so proud of me, leading me around and introducing me as his girlfriend to anyone who would listen. When it came to me, there was something very focused and passionate about him, and he... He..."

Izzy watched her blankly, patting her back, trying to work out her behavior. She was tearing up and holding her hands out in front of her, as if she were trying to physically show him something that she couldn't describe in words. "I, I never had that kind of attention before. Unless I'm performing, I always keep to the background, and people don't notice me. I like it that way. Whenever I need them- and, frankly, sometimes when I don't, at least ever since prom- Tai and Matt are always there for me. But Jerry acted like I was his number one priority, like he got out of bed and went to school just because I was there. He thought of surprises just for me. He took me out and made it his personal mission to see that I had a good time. He said things to me that no one else ever did, like that I was beautiful and smart and... You know..." Amy paused and smiled, a smile that was clearly nothing more than a token effort. Her voice was wavering and high, and she kept looking anywhere but at him. "Special. It felt good. It felt really, really good, and… Even though I didn't feel much for him beyond a light tie of friendship, I responded to how he treated me."

_I need to talk to Matt, _Izzy realized, furrowing his brow. The fact that Amy was so starved for praise and affection disturbed him. Just what was her family life like, if someone as sweet and talented as her had these kinds of doubts about her self-worth? Perhaps the bassist could provide some insight.

And he was already having serious doubts about Jerry. Did Jerry truly hold Amy in regard, or did he merely feed off of her insecurities in order to gain access to her body? But those were worries would have to wait; Amy had wiped her eyes and started to move on, and he didn't want to miss a word.

"Anyway... The longer I was with him, the more I realized that Jerry was kind of..._ too_ into me. He became possessive, and he always wanted to be around me, to be touching me. The other girls seemed to think it was sweet, but I need my space, and I was starting to get stressed out. I began to hope that we would just drift our separate ways when we graduated, but with the play and prom coming up, I didn't want to dump breakup drama on everything. Besides, everyone said I was lucky..." Amy broke off and began to toy with her hair. "I... I don't know why I believed them. You must… You must think I'm really weak. And, really, I was probably stringing Jerry along, letting him pay so much attention to me when I didn't have any romantic inclination towards him. So… So, maybe… Maybe I'm a bad person. But…" She paused to rub at her eyes, and Izzy realized that they were growing wet and red. "Everyone…everyone always seemed to be hinting that I couldn't possibly hope to do better. My father said so directly."

"Amy..." Izzy had kept quiet for a while, but Amy's genuine confusion and hurt were too much to take. She glanced over at him, smiled awkwardly, and made a flapping hand motion.

"No, no, gosh, I'm sorry. Listen to me, feeling all sorry for myself! I'm not trying to look like a pity case. Moving on!" She laughed, a hollow, tense sound.

"Amy!" Izzy took hold of her shoulders and made sure she was looking at him. He didn't understand the kind of pain he was in. It was like being battered from inside. "Please, listen to me. Whatever you desire in this world… You're the type of person who can gain it by virtue of hard work, talent, and dedication. I have no doubt of that. And anyone who would shun your regard is a rank fool. I count myself very fortunate to have it, myself." Her eyes went wide, and she leaned away from him, and Izzy panicked as he realized that it might sound like he was sweet-talking her. "That's not an affectation, Amy. I truly mean it."

She just looked at him, dumbfounded, like a child faced with some overwhelming revelation. Then, slowly, her eyes began to water, and she moved in very close to him. The last bits of tension dripped out of her body as she gave him a wet, smacking kiss on the cheek. She didn't comment, but Izzy could sense how deeply she appreciated his words. Her arms made their way around him, and he returned her embrace. It was so moving to know that she valued his opinion so highly, and that she was willing to trust him. His hold on her grew tighter without his noticing.

Amy backed up enough to kiss his forehead, then cleared her throat and worked a hand under his shirt, resting her fingers along his spine. "Uh, I should have been more concerned, because Jerry was really physical, and I... Well, I wasn't. We didn't date that long before prom, I guess like two or three months, but he always wanted to kiss me and touch me, even if we were in public." Amy's upper lip pulled back, indicating her opinion of such behavior. Izzy felt a tiny sense of relief; he also didn't like to be demonstrative in the view of others, to the point where even holding hands was pushing it. Apparently, his preference wouldn't hurt Amy's feelings, so long as he allowed her to hold onto his arm.

"He, uh... He would try to get us alone a lot. I tried to explain to him that it was too soon for me, but he always looked hurt and a little annoyed when I said it outright, so I started deflecting and dodging his questions, instead. I didn't like it when he got upset," she said quietly. "He frightened me. I know how to navigate around Tai when he gets worked up, and I trust him, but I never had time to trust Jerry, to learn his body language. With Tai, when he starts to lose it, I can draw a line in the sand and step right up to it, egging him on if I need to. It's a dangerous game, but I know how far I can go. With Jerry... I just had no idea. And he's awfully strong."

Izzy closed his eyes and willed himself to keep quiet. He wanted to demand to know how she could have stayed with someone who didn't respect her wishes, who made her feel vulnerable and afraid. But that would only upset her further, and she already seemed to be struggling with her story. _I still can't believe she's telling me all this. Why me, after keeping quiet all this time?_

Amy sighed and slipped her fingers through his belt loops, absently twisting her digits around them. "I went through the motions, like an idiot. We stayed together, and, as prom got closer, I picked out a dress, but I didn't have the money to put up for doing my hair and makeup and renting a limo, even though Tai and Matt were sharing one with their dates." Her fingers closed around his hip, clutching him with enough force to hurt. "Jerry said that was okay, I looked perfect as I was, and he wanted me all to himself, anyway. He drove me there."

_Is it my imagination, or did I just hear the first traces of bitterness? _Izzy glanced up at her and tried to work out her expression, and something about the harsh angle of her eyebrows seemed to indicate that she was finally showing some anger. But it was mixed in with confusion, regret, and something like wistfulness. _Could it be that she still wants to believe that he was being honest with her? And how interesting that she seemed to expect to pay for her portion of the limo. Doesn't the boyfriend typically cover transportation for the couple? _Izzy didn't know Jerry, but, despite Amy's careful handling of her story, Izzy already suspected him, disliked him, maybe even hated him.

"Prom itself was alright," Amy said offhandedly. "I would have liked it better without a date, because I wanted to hang out with Tai and Matt, and maybe get a dance with them. But Jerry was kind of jealous. He tolerated Tai, I guess because they were friends and we're related, but he gave Matt a hard time every once in a while. I should have gone with TK," she breathed. "Kari wouldn't have minded, if it was me..." Amy broke off and brooded for a few seconds, then snapped back into her story, as if she hadn't meant to drift off like that. "Uh, but, you know, Matt and Tai had their own dates to entertain, so... Anyway, it was kind of boring. You know how those things are."

Izzy hadn't attended his prom, but he saw no reason to interrupt with that detail. But it made sense to him that Amy hadn't placed much importance on her prom, hadn't insisted that her parents pay to have her made up like a princess, hadn't particularly enjoyed what he saw as a shallow social ritual meant to suck money out of families and create one last burst of drama before graduation. _She's a clear-sighted young woman. A girl who knows what matters, _he thought, and not without a sense of pride.

"Then there was the, uh, after party," she muttered. "The school rented an activity center. It had all kinds of stuff, like rock climbing and a pool, if you wanted to change, and they set up a place to gamble with tickets. I thought that part would be a lot more fun, since there wasn't dancing, so I thought I could be with Tai and Matt." She paused and pulled on a lock of her hair, wrapping the ends around her fingers so viscously that a few split ends formed before Izzy's eyes. "But Jerry wanted to hang out with his friends, and he just smiled and dragged me along when I tried to tell him what I wanted." Her shoulders rose and fell against him, and Izzy interpreted it as a humorless laugh. "And when I say dragged, I really mean that he sort of laughed and threw me over his shoulder, like I was joking around with him."

_Deuce, this fellow must be powerful. Amy's not exactly an inconsequential load. And to use that force against her, even without physically hurting her... _Izzy's lips formed a hard, thin line. _I always wondered if she minded my being so small and scrawny. I suppose I know why she's accepted my appearance so readily, now. There's no chance of my overpowering her. _He wasn't sure how he felt about his train of thought, and he dismissed it. His mind was starting to piece together details that he had gathered since the beginning of the semester, and his heart seemed to be trembling in his chest. They all pointed to a conclusion so horrible that he didn't want to acknowledge the possibility.

Amy's hand moved from his hip to his waist, trailing along his ribs through his shirt. She put faint pressure against him, and he leaned into her in response, sensing her need of support. "I... As the evening wore on, I started feeling strange. I was tired, sluggish, and it took so much effort to move, to keep my thoughts together. I kept forgetting where I was, and I remember being convinced that there was something wrong with my legs, because every step was like prying my feet off a sticky mouse trap. At first, I thought it was because I was up so late; it was about two in the morning at this point, and I usually go to sleep around eleven. I tried to tell Jerry, but he was busy with his friends, including these two guys I had always disliked, and I didn't want to draw their attention. I found Tai and Matt, although I'm not sure how I managed it. The floor seemed to move, and the people were just blurs of colors, and the voices hurt my head."

She squeaked and jumped, and Izzy realized that he had clenched his hands against her too hard. "I'm so sorry," he said, patting her waist and shoulder in a daze. "But, Amy- No- _No_- he drugged you- _he drugged you_!" A cold, biting fury tore through him, freezing his innards, making his body shake. He pulled her in, as if to protect her from something that had already happened. Amy froze, then sniffed and buried her face in his shoulder. Her body went limp, and Izzy helped her readjust against him, taking on her weight as best he could.

"I didn't know it at the time, but yeah. I never did find out exactly what it was, but I'm guessing ketamine. Jerry didn't know either. One of those two guys slipped it into my drink without telling him. When he confronted them about it later, they said they did it to help me… relax. Because I get anxious, I guess, so they put it in soda, and I didn't even taste it-"

"Relax?" Izzy repeated, his voice going high and sharp. "Amy, you _know _that's not why they drugged you." Izzy wasn't sure he believed that someone other than Jerry had drugged her, but that wasn't his main concern at the moment. His guts were churning, and he wished he had some kind of target, someone or something to work these horrible emotions out on, but there was nothing but an innocent woman in sight. _What are people supposed to do when they feel this way? I didn't even know people_ could _feel this way._

"I'm just telling you what he told me," she said, and her defensive tone had Izzy fiercely trying to get his emotions back in check. She didn't need him snapping right now, even if he was on her side.

"Yes, I know," he said gently, rubbing her back. "I apologize." Her neck and shoulders had tensed up, so he rubbed them for her, until they relaxed by degrees. Eventually, she pressed her lips lightly to his shoulder, and he recognized the gesture as forgiveness. He released a breath and forced himself to calm down, but it was so difficult. He was hoping beyond hope that someone was going to intercede in this story and help Amy- surely someone would have noticed her walking about in a daze- because, otherwise, he didn't like where this was going.

"In the end, I... I asked Jerry to take me home."

"Wait a moment," Izzy said, raising a brow at her. "What happened with Tai and Matt?" _Surely, one of them helped you. Please say that they helped you._

Amy worried her lower lip for a moment before hiding her face against his shoulder. "It's not really important," she said quickly. Her shoulders sagged, and Izzy felt heat and wetness forming against his neck.

_The hell it's not, _Izzy thought darkly. _Yes, I believe I shall have that appointment with Matt, after all. _He didn't understand how they could have failed to assist her. They always seemed to have an eye out for her at college, and they sometimes practically smothered her with their attention and worry. _Unless… _Izzy caught his breath and held Amy closer against him. _Unless they're like that now because they failed to help her that night._

"Jerry was half carrying me by the time we got to his car. I have no idea how the chaperons didn't realize that something was wrong with me. Jerry kept asking if I was okay, and I kept saying I was, and I don't even remember why I lied, but… but it didn't seem like lying at the time? But then we were driving home, and all the street lights hurt my eyes and made me feel sick, swirling around above me. It was like being in the Starry Night painting, except nauseating. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, and I must have nodded off, because I don't remember getting out of the car. When I woke up, I was being laid out on... on a bed."

Izzy could no longer hold back the suspicions that had been forming in his mind as Amy spoke, and everything went cold and numb. Although the two of them were safe and huddled up together in a patch of sunlight by the window, he had never felt more desperately frightened in all his life. Part of him wanted to beg her to stop talking, but he was having trouble getting the words out.

"Most of my senses weren't working properly, but… I knew something was wrong. It didn't smell like my house, and Jerry had no business tucking me into bed. I started to panic, but it was weird… It felt like my brain was watching things happen from behind blurry glass, reacting to it, but it had no access to my body. It was difficult to move and speak. Everything alternated between fuzziness and clarity. Before long, I forgot why I was even troubled."

She had begun to tremble against him, and Izzy held on to her fiercely, stroking her hair with one hand and holding her close with the other. "You don't have to say anything else," he choked. His voice broke embarrassingly over the words, but he didn't register it. There was a painful burning in his eyes, and his chest was quivering. There was a consuming, paralyzing sense of panic and horror working up inside of him, and it reminded him of the day Shauna broke up with him, only much, much worse.

"No," Amy said, and there was an odd, otherwordly feel to her voice. Despite her shaking, she sounded oddly calm and detached. _Is this some sort of defense mechanism, or is she growing hysterical? _Izzy readjusted, trying to get a view of her face, but she refused to move away from him. "No. I've never said all of this before. No one knows what it was like. I've kept it inside of me all this time. It's my way, you know, not to talk about that sort of thing, but… It's been festering in me like an infection for months now. I know it's a burden, but… If you would listen, I'd be grateful."

_I don't understand anything anymore, _Izzy thought, and a cold, desolate feeling swept over him. "I am, as always, at your disposal," he said, but there was a blank, forlorn sound to his voice.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you. Really." She began to breathe heavily and loudly, and Izzy was sure that she was finally going to break down, but, somehow, she paused and collected herself. Izzy's vision was blurred with hot, stinging tears, but he was too shocked to show a stronger reaction. All of his attention hung on her words, even though they were so difficult to hear.

"He asked me if I was okay… I said I was tired. And that really was my strongest feeling at the time. Even though I sort of suspected that something was wrong, I couldn't bring myself to make a fuss over it. All that mattered was sleeping. Actually, I kind of felt like I already was."

_The drugs, _Izzy thought, closing his eyes. _Fatigue, disconnect from the world, a sense of feeling like you're already dreaming._

"Jerry kept saying all of these sweet things, and… Some of them made me feel good. Some of them made me uncomfortable. He kissed me… I kissed him back. He undressed me… and… I didn't protest. It's all really fuzzy, but I do remember thinking that he wanted sex, and that I should tell him no, but… But I remembered all the things he had done for me. I remembered how special he made me feel." There was a choking sound near his ear, and Izzy pulled Amy far enough away to see her face. Tears were slowly rolling down her cheeks, but she seemed to be retaining some level of control, which was more than he could say for himself. His hands were like dead things, heavy and cold from the core. "I remembered people hinting, and sometimes telling me outright, that I didn't deserve him, that I should feel lucky."

Her body went limp, as if she were suddenly exhausted. "He asked me if I was alright with sex." She swallowed loudly, then released a breath in a wet, shivering gasp. "I said okay."

_Oh, God. Oh, God. _Izzy didn't even know what was happening with his body anymore. His vision seemed to be swirling slightly and going dim, as if he was suffering from a sudden bout of low blood pressure, or some sort of dizzy spell.

"I was a virgin. I remember him saying he'd be gentle, but gentleness was never really in his skill set, and… It hurt. I felt sick and tired, and my body wasn't aroused at all. He had a condom, so I guess there was some lubrication, but there were none of the physical changes in my body that are supposed to happen before… Before sex. Every time he moved, it, it…" Her arms tightened around him, and Izzy clung back with equal fervor, vainly wishing that he knew what to do, what to say to her. "I tried so hard to tell him that he was hurting me, but I could barely make a sound. Even breathing seemed hard." She closed her eyes and paused as a few tears leaked out. "And I think the noises I did manage sounded like pleasure to him."

"And then… Then it was over, and I… I'll always remember the way he looked at me. He looked at me like a sated lover, like I was the most beautiful thing in the world, like I wasn't sick and hurting, and… I felt like I was on another planet, like reality had snapped apart on me. Then he fell asleep, but, even though I was so tired, I couldn't sleep, myself. Finally, the drugs wore off enough that I could move confidently, and I found Jerry's phone. I called Matt, and I'll never know how he pieced together enough of what I was telling him to get there, but he did."

Traces of bile were rising up Izzy's throat, but he swallowed convulsively, forcing them down. _Don't vomit. Don't vomit. You can't. She needs you to stay collected. _He forced himself to think of a question, not knowing how else to contribute, not realizing that appearing so calm could be interpreted as disinterest. "You… You didn't call your parents? Or Tai?"

"My parents?" Amy echoed, looking faintly surprised. "I didn't think of my parents. They wouldn't have been a comfort to me. And Tai… Izzy, you know why I didn't call Tai."

Izzy stared at her for a moment, his emotions blocking him from comprehension. Then the answer hit him, and he fought down a groan. _Tai would have killed Jerry. If he saw Amy like that, Tai honestly would have killed him. _

_And I wouldn't have blamed him one jot._

Something about his expression must have communicated his understanding, because Amy continued without comment. "Honestly, I didn't want to tell anyone, but I knew… I knew that I couldn't get home in my state, and I couldn't stay there in Jerry's house, I had to get out. I managed to get one of Jerry's shirts on, and then I waited. Matt let himself in- thankfully, Jerry had forgotten to lock the front door- and he found some pants for me. Did I mention that we were at Jerry's house?" Izzy nodded jerkily, realizing that Amy was too overloaded to remember the finer points of what she was saying. "Yeah, I did, sorry. Uh, his parents are divorced, and his mom was away on business a lot. But anyway, I'll never know how Matt got me to the car, but he did. He took me to his place, helped me into some of his clothes, and tucked me into his bed."

"I… I'm really sorry I had to involve Matt like that. I put such a burden on him… He had fun all night, and then I threw that on him. It hurt him so much to see me like that, I could tell, and then I went and asked him not to tell certain people certain details… To keep secrets from his best friend and his brother."

Izzy had no idea how to behave in this situation, and he decided to go ahead and say so. It was better than saying nothing, after all. "I'm so, so sorry, Amy. I… I've no idea how to react, what to say, except that… I'm honestly horrified, and I wish, so very dearly, that I could have done something for you, somehow, but…" _But I didn't even know you. _He felt so sick, so helpless, so useless to her.

Amy's tiny hands closed around the collar of his shirt, clinging to the fabric. "There… There actually is something you could do for me," she whispered, angling her forehead against his.

"Anything," Izzy said at once, feeling oddly grateful for some kind of task. "I'm at your command."

"Don't treat me differently, now that you know."

"Um?" Izzy pulled back from her enough to look at her face, and he saw enormous, moist eyes looking into his.

Amy sighed and draw back from him slightly. "I didn't want anyone to know about what happened. Prom was Friday night. My parents didn't wait up for me, so I was able to sneak back in with no one noticing. I had the weekend to mentally get myself together, but… Those two days were hard. Really hard. I felt all of the fear and panic and violation that I was unable to feel that night, and all I could do was hide in my room and play guitar. I begged Matt not to say anything when he came to see me. I told him it wasn't… It wasn't what he thought."

"You told him you weren't raped?" Izzy asked. He kept the sharpness out of his tone by pure power of will, knowing that Amy would misinterpret it, but there was nothing he could do about the shock.

Amy's lips drew back in a grimace. "I _wasn't_ raped. I made a series of poor choices, particularly telling him that I was alright with sleeping with him. I didn't fight back or make any indication that I didn't want it… Although at some point, I did cut his shoulder pretty bad with my corsage clip, and it bled, but he didn't seem to really notice it."

Izzy could feel himself fighting to maintain his calm, but his emotions were slipping out of his hands like a rope in a losing game of tug-of-war. He felt the precise moment when they slipped, when his frustration and horror overwhelmed him, when his sense of justice reared up. "_You are not to blame,_" he cried, taking hold of her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "You were _drugged_. You were psychologically manipulated. At the worst, you were raped. At the very best, Jerry took gross advantage of you."

"You sound just like Tai and Matt," and said petulantly. She wiped her face dry with her hands, then drew them down her neck, pushing in hard enough to leave temporary red marks on her skin. "Jerry didn't drug me. He didn't know I _was _drugged at all. And he never meant to manipulate me." Izzy opened his mouth to begin a counter argument, but Amy raised a hand. "_Please_, Izzy. Please, listen to me. Please, don't tell me what I should think about everything that happened. Please." Her hands closed around his, sticky and wet with clear snot and tears, and her lower lip trembled as she stared beseechingly at him.

_She needs this, _he realized. _Tai is too hardheaded to let her have her say, and Matt saw her that night. He formed his own opinions about everything right then and there, was probably was unable to shift them later. _He gently freed himself from her grasp, then ran his fingers through her hair, nodding his permission. _As much as I want to condemn Jerry and be done with it, she needs someone to hear her views on it, and to at least allow their possibility. And she's trusting me with the job._

_But… I never knew supporting someone could be so very painful._

Amy kissed him, swift and hard, an expression of surprised gratitude, as far as Izzy could tell. She settled her head on her pillow, then began to speak again. "The soccer championships were so close, and so I didn't hear from Jerry over the weekend, because he was practicing with the team and training on his own. Sometimes I wonder if Matt had something to do with it, though, since I would have thought that Jerry would wonder why I wasn't there when he woke up. Thankfully, I didn't see him much on Monday. I was in the AP and honors classes, and we had different lunch periods. But I knew I had to talk to him that day, and, when he approached me in the locker room, I asked him to come to an empty classroom with me. I don't know if Matt guessed what I would do, or if he was just following me, but he slipped into the room with us.

"I… I'm glad Matt was there. I didn't expect it, since I hadn't particularly felt afraid that night, but… Suddenly, I was terrified of Jerry. I told him I didn't want to be his girlfriend anymore, and… He was shocked, Izzy. Truly shocked. I told him that I was sure someone drugged me, that I wasn't really ready to… To do what we did. I don't think he believed me at first, because, you know, who wants to think that something like that happened? But Matt vouched for me, and Jerry started to really think about how I acted that night.

"His face turned this horrible red/purple color, and he practically knocked the door off the hinges storming out. He found those two guys hanging around, and he pinned them against the wall. He was so scary, he didn't yell, but…" Amy broke off and shuddered. "He didn't need to. He asked them if they drugged me, and they said no, but he put pressure on their necks… I tried to get him to stop, but I really think he didn't hear me, he was so angry. Finally, one of them owned up to it, and… He asked them why they would do it, and they said they wanted to help him out, since I wasn't…" Amy shut her eyes and made the ugliest, most disgusted expression Izzy had ever seen from her. "Since I wasn't _putting out. _Zeus above, if Matt hadn't gone for a teacher when Jerry started getting violent, I don't know what he would have done to those two. I really don't. When they said that, I thought he would snap and just go ballistic. Thankfully, Jerry reigned it in when the teacher showed up, and since neither of them were actually hurt yet, the situation just kind of diffused, and Matt grabbed Jerry's arm and sort of steered him away while the teacher looked on."

Izzy listened quietly, unsure of how much to believe. He didn't know Jerry personally, so he had no idea if the boy was capable of putting on this kind of show in an effort to save face. But then, he couldn't imagine why these mysterious friends would be willing to play along; admitting to administering a date rape drug had to be some kind of legal offense. And so, he tried to keep an open mind, and he took hold of Amy's hand, trying to communicate that he was doing as she wished.

"The three of us went back to the classroom, and I told him that I was afraid of him now, that I couldn't possibly stay close to him. It was… It was really hard, because… Even though our personalities and interests didn't mesh that well, he really tried to be a good boyfriend, you know? He went to my plays, he went out of his way everyday to do something nice for me, he was proud of me… I didn't like everything about him, but I knew that he was trying his best, that he had real feelings for me. And, when it really hit him that I regretted what happened on prom night, that it had damaged me, he…" She began to run her hands anxiously over his back. "He slid down the wall and just… Fell apart. I've never seen someone cry like that before, like a soul in torment. Matt half-dragged me out of the room, and I thought… I felt bad, but I also felt like, you know, at least it's over, at least I made myself understood in the end."

Izzy sighed and curled a silken lock of her hair around his pointer finger. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for Amy to break up with someone, and he couldn't help but wonder how much assistance Matt had provided. And, of course, he was sure that this story was far from over. Amy was still tense, was still staring off into nothing, and she hadn't even touched on Tai yet. "Surely, Matt must have said something to Tai at some point," he prodded, placing his hand on her hip as he spoke.

"Yeah," Amy sighed, moving her eyes to the ceiling. "Yeah. That's why it wasn't over, after all. It wasn't Matt's fault, you know? Obviously, Tai noticed that I wasn't hanging out with Jerry anymore, and he noticed that I was suddenly… Kind of vacant. I tried to tell myself that what happened was terrible and unfortunate, but that I had agreed to it, so I should be okay. I know that sounds bad," Amy said, no doubt reading Izzy's expression as aghast disagreement, "but what I meant was, I was trying to tell myself that things weren't as bad as they seemed. But, even though my memory of that night is kind of sketchy, I… Sometimes, my mind gets caught up in it, and I feel so sick and scared. I tried to act like nothing happened, like I was perfectly fine, but I had so much trouble focusing on the here and now at first. I startled severely at loud sounds and physical contact. I was afraid of any man who wasn't Tai, Matt, or TK. I talked a lot less than usual, and I sort of stuck to my boys like a shadow. I was afraid of being alone. I didn't sleep well."

Izzy's eyes began to burn as she calmly ticked off her symptoms, like someone naming the presidents. He held her closer, and he was grateful that she didn't shy away from him, that, for some reason, she didn't seem to fear him. "Don't worry," Amy said, smiling slightly. "It's gotten so much better. There are so many interesting things to learn here at college, so I don't have time to dwell on it. I sleep a lot better, knowing that Tai's in the same building. I'm not ever around Jerry anymore. And…" Her smile faltered, and her eyes looked away from him. "I trust you, Izzy. I feel safe with you. I know I got confused last night, but when I'm in control of myself, I know that you would never hurt me. You have no idea how much that means to me."

_And you have no idea how brave you are. _She always tried so hard at everything, and it was clear to him that her desire to act normally was for the benefit of the people she cared about. And here she was, opening up to him, lying so close to him, trusting him. He began to feel a little small as he compared his troubles to her, his reaction to those lesser issues to her reaction to this. But now was not the time for self-deprecation; she was expecting an answer.

"And I can't express how grateful and amazed I am that you're offering me your trust." Amy blinked, then colored slightly and glanced away. Somehow, Izzy managed a tiny smile, and he pressed a feather-light kiss to her lips, then cocked an eyebrow at her, inviting her to continue. She grinned and flicked his brow in response, but her cheerfulness faded as the next few seconds dripped by.

"I tried to explain things to Tai, but all he really heard was that I had slept with Jerry, and that I wasn't happy about it. There are other factors- certainly, Jerry should have noticed that I wasn't behaving properly, and it seems like he was complaining about my not wanting to be physical with him to some dangerous people. Those are both bad things. But I should have broken up with Jerry a long time ago- actually, I should not have dated him at all, really- and I did specifically give him permission. He didn't know I wasn't all the way there at the time. Sometimes, sometimes I do get caught up in things, and… And I kind of do hate Jerry, until I calm down again. I certainly can't say that I like him anymore. But… But I'm not sure that he deserved what Tai did to him."

"Tai reduced him to a bloody pulp, didn't he," Izzy breathed, rubbing his forehead. Izzy was generally a nonviolent person, but even he wouldn't have reacted calmly in that situation. He couldn't say that he blamed Tai for trying to retaliate against Jerry, and that admission filled him with discomfort.

Amy closed her eyes. "Tai is strong, but Jerry… He's stronger. His build is more solid and muscular. He could have fought back, he could have messed Tai up pretty bad. And this fight? It was right before their championship tournament…! Stars, what was he _thinking? _Jerry could have easily injured him enough to take him out of the games, even if Tai technically 'won' the fight, as if anyone ever really wins in a fight. But… But Jerry didn't hurt him. I wasn't there, but Matt was, and he told me that Jerry fought just hard enough to egg Tai on. Like… Like he was trying to provoke damage." Amy paused, pinched the bridge of her nose, and groaned. "There was hardly any school year left, especially for us seniors, but I didn't see Jerry for the rest of it."

_Good God. Tai did that much damage? _Izzy swallowed hard and spared a moment to hope that he would never, ever nudge Tai too far. _And to think, I baited him like a little fool last night…! What might have happened if Amy didn't intercede on my behalf? _Izzy shuddered, and Amy caressed his back, as if he was the one who needed comforting right now.

"So," Amy said at last, sounding worn and a little lost. "So, Tai not only risked his body right before the biggest sports event of his life, but he struck one of his best, most experienced players from the roster. Tai was the team captain and the star striker, he was captain for a long time. Winning that tournament was his _dream_, Izzy, all four years, and he endangered it so much, for what? Revenge? It's not like beating Jerry helped anything." Her hands roamed restlessly over his back, worrying the fabric of his shirt.

"Boys can be so stupid…!" she said at last. "I love Tai, but… I am so glad you're not all 'rawr let's go punch stuff!' like he is sometimes. You _think_, you know? And try to work it out some other way. You _listen_." Her hands moved to his shoulders, and she fixed him with an affectionate sort of look that had Izzy squirming slightly inside. He wasn't entirely sure that he deserved this praise.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened with the tournament?" Izzy asked. It seemed like such a little thing, in the face of everything else that happened, but Izzy was aware that Amy might feel guilty if the team's performance suffered.

"Hmm? Well, Tai injured his hands in the fight, but, of course, you don't really use them so much for soccer. People were suspicious, since it was clear that Jerry and I had some sort of falling out, and that Tai was the protective type. There were rumors that Tai would be barred from the tournament, but Jerry never reported the… Well, the assault, basically. I was told that he sort of… made the fist shaped wounds sound like accidents. There were still whispers, but there was no basis for disciplinary action."

"Just as you never reported the assault on you," Izzy added. He had a feeling that it would be best to let that detail slip by, but Amy was far too willing to let Jerry off for his tastes. She looked at him for a moment, then sighed and continued, as if he hadn't interrupted.

"Tai chose the best of the younger players, Davis, to fill Jerry's spot, and… They won. They tore everyone apart, it was _amazing_. I've never seen Tai so focused and determined before, and Davis kind of has this adorable man-crush on Tai, you know, always trying to impress him, and he totally channeled off of Tai's energy. They were like human blurs on the field." Despite everything, there was a fierce pride in Amy's voice and face as she spoke.

_I wonder if she realizes that Tai probably sank his faculties into soccer so he wouldn't be able to think about what happened to her. _Izzy saw no reason to vocalize that thought; if Tai's success in the tournament made her happy, then he wouldn't tarnish it in any way.

There was a long pause, and Izzy gently pulled Amy towards him. He felt used up and wrung out, and oddly shy around her, now. Is that what she meant about not treating her differently? Did Tai and Matt start treating her like she was made of glass, with pity dripping from every interaction? He had no idea how he was supposed to behave around her now. Actually, he wasn't sure what he thought of the world as a whole, right now. He knew, of course, that people were used and abused every day, but knowing that Amy had suffered- was still suffering- in the way she had… He couldn't help it. He hissed, smushed her against him, and buried his face in her neck, needing the contact in a way he didn't really understand.

And, suddenly, Amy's breathing hitched, and she clung to him. Her skin felt hot and feverish against his, and she started to sniff and shake. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she choked, releasing him enough to rub at her eyes. "I can't fall apart on you, especially not after you listened to all of that awful stuff-"

"I'm here for you," Izzy said, and the certainty and authority in his voice surprised even him. "Whatever you need- anything- I'm here."

And that offering of compassion seemed to push her over the edge- something that even the retelling of her story couldn't do. Suddenly, Izzy was holding onto a sobbing young woman, and he had no idea what to do to help her. He rubbed her back, offered her his shoulder, and moved her hair away from her face, hoping it was helpful.

It took a long time, but eventually she ran dry, and she went silent against him. Her breathing gradually grew deep and even, but Izzy didn't try to slip away. He held her as she slept, trying to reconcile himself to what he had learned.

But digesting and making some form of peace with Amy's story simply was not possible at the moment. Instead, he kissed her head, frowned, and began to make a mental list of questions for Matt.

**Author's Note: **Uggghh. I'll be honest, this chapter needs more work, but I can't look at it anymore. It's just such a difficult situation. I hope I at least handled it with the appropriate respect and gravity. You can be sure that the consequences of this are far-reaching, and as realistic as I can make them.

I didn't want Jerry to be a straight-up villain. Surely, he pressured Amy and was definitely too hormonal for his own good… but he was also 17 or 18. Kids do that stuff, purely because they have not yet learned control and balance (of course, I don't mean to excuse letting it go too far). But there were signs that he did want an actual relationship with her, and that he was upset about how things happened. And Amy wasn't blameless, either; she shouldn't have been dating him at all, and she knew it.

Have you ever dealt with a tough situation with strength and dignity, only to fall apart when someone you respect offers you their concern? It's an odd feeling.

It may seem like there isn't anything else to say about this, but there is. And Izzy's going to do everything he can to get that information out of Matt next time.

But first, updates to my other two stories. I need a break from this topic.


End file.
